


Amelioration

by TangoProxy



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Aromantic Inquisitor, Asexual Inquisitor, Canon-Typical Violence, Depersonalization, Dissociation, Gen, Modern Girl in Thedas, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, self insert for therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-08-17 10:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8140667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TangoProxy/pseuds/TangoProxy
Summary: a·me·lio·rateəˈmēlyəˌrāt/  verbmake (something bad or unsatisfactory) better. "the reform did much to ameliorate living standards"synonyms: improve, make better, better, make improvements to, enhance, help, benefit, boostNicole is a modern girl in Thedas. She must learn to deal with her personal traumas and mental state while adjusting to the idea of a daydream becoming a living, breathing Nightmare.





	1. The Wrath of Heaven, part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as Therapy, a way for me to work through my problems and trauma in a controlled environment. Message me for additional warnings. Grammatical and technical criticism is always welcome. This is a very personal project, so please withhold your comments if you decide you didn't particularly care for it.  
> Many heartfelt thanks to Immortal-Silvers and [ Ceranna ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceranna/pseuds/Ceranna) for beta reading and offering support and encouragement.

.The Wrath of Heaven, part 1.

 

The experience was something like how she imagined a flash grenade going off in your face might be. A blinding intensity that left her burning as if she’d been dipped in a vat of bleach. She couldn’t remember what she’d been doing before the flash of green light, only vague ideas- graduation announcements, thank you notes, resumes, visas. She also couldn’t remember what had happened directly after except for flashing lights, an empty silence, and what felt like being dragged across uneven pavement.

She woke up in increments, her face pressed against a hard, cold surface and her limbs tingling from inactivity. She never drank in excess, so she couldn't wrap her head around how she'd passed out on the floor. Very slowly while her muscles groaned in complaint, Nicole sat up.

Her head was pounding and she was...handcuffed? The room was nearly pitch black, a small candle flickering on a low table on the other side of the room, barely providing enough light to look down at her hands; she was bound by loose, rough shackles made of looped wrought iron attached by a chain. Where was she? _What the fuck,_ she thought as she gave the chain a little tug.

Some time ago, she remembered, an old friend had taken her hands in his huge paw, palm to palm, and said:

“Your hands are freakishly small.”

She had countered with an amused but snappy reply, clearly _his_ hands were just freakishly large. Now though, considering the circumstances, she was happy to agree with him.

She writhed her hands, chain links clinking as she struggled, the painful squeeze not nearly enough to stop her from trying to free herself. She bent over her hands, licking the skin of her left hand. Her mouth was so dry, how long had she been unconscious?

Nicole pulled again, her hand sliding just that much more before she finally moved the shackle passed the bulk of her thumb. Her left hand pulled loose, nearly hitting her in the face, and she exhaled a long unsteady breath.

Footsteps retreated further into the darkness. Nicole froze, an ice cold wave passing over her. Was someone there watching her? She grabbed at the right cuff and twisted the pin holding it together, removing it and tossing the shackles aside. As she rubbed her sore hand, she eventually noticed a strange swirling pattern on the palm of her left hand, angry pink depressions like a fresh brand. She stopped and her mind went blank.

_What the_ ** _fuck_** _._ Someone must be fucking with her... God she hoped someone was just fucking with her. A going away prank? She shifted and gazed into the darkness, straining to make out any detail she could, something to confirm that this was all just a joke made in poor taste. The dimly lit wooden furniture and the glint of light off metal bars was all eerily familiar, but she just couldn’t string the pieces together-

A green glow erupted from the brand, blinding her as the nerves in her hand sent lightening bolts of pain up her arm.

“Ah!” Nicole bent over, her forehead nearly slamming against the stone floor. Tears sprang to her eyes and her mind raged against the impossibility of her situation. The light died away and slowly, slowly, the pain dulled. She cradled her hands against her stomach.

“This isn't real,” she whispered and bit her lip savagely, squeezing her eyes shut against the pain. Dreams didn't hurt. Dreams were safe and fun and she usually had some semblance of control over them. Waking up in a dungeon with a magical WMD embedded in your palm didn't feel like any of those things.

“Wake up,” she begged, still hoping this was some sort of nightmare. “Please.”

A march of footsteps echoed in the darkness, the source unseen. She knew though; the interrogation was about to begin. Was it as mild as in the game? Her gut lurched. Would she be tortured? A door swung open and she squinted against the torchlight that illuminated the dungeon. Four armored men, each with swords drawn, filled the space around her, sword-tips trained on her. Two of the guards placed the torches they carried into empty sconces before taking their positions. The illuminated dungeon was a new perspective of something familiar. Nicole snorted almost hysterically before she heard more footsteps, distant but approaching. It must be Cassandra and Leliana.

Another sudden flash of light and debilitating pain bent Nicole over with a sharp cry. Slowly, she sat up, bracing herself against the floor; the cold stone was soothing on her hand. She lifted her heavy head to find the Seeker and the Spymaster stepping past the circle of guards. Cassandra Pentaghast was a giant woman, easily dwarfing Nicole, who absently noted that the guards were enormous as well. Cassandra's skin was dark and the pale slivers of scar tissue on each of her cheeks stood out in contrast. There was no mistaking the warrior princess. Leliana was not quite as tall as Cassandra but just as imposing, her youthful face countered by her intimidating death stare. Freckles highlighted her nose and the crown of each pale cheek. Both women stared down at Nicole, critical and calculating.

The Seeker spat out disgusted words, too fast for Nicole to follow. Leliana responded, a similar garble of sounds; they passed words back and forth between one another and Cassandra began to pace.

Nicole's mouth watered and her chest and back tightened. She couldn't understand anything they were saying. Not a single thing. She felt her body fighting the urge to heave. She was going to puke, right here in the dungeon, all over Cassandra's shoes.

“Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now,” the Seeker commanded.

“Oh thank god,” Nicole gasped, the words lost as she nearly choked on her relief. Cassandra stopped pacing and Nicole stared at her boots, still struggling with her nausea.

“The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead.” The Seeker paused dramatically. “Except for you.” She grabbed Nicole's left hand, lightening fast, and demanded, “Explain this.”

“I can't,” Nicole admitted weakly, her mind thinking with detached amusement that despite everything, she was staying on script. Her body trembled violently against the renewed urge to vomit.

“What do you mean you can't?” Cassandra asked, incredulous.

“I don't know,” Nicole moaned, tears dribbling down her cheeks. “I don't know.”

“You're lying!” Cassandra snarled, jerking her forward and reaching back to strike.

Leliana grabbed Cassandra's wrist. “We need her, Cassandra.”

The Seeker relinquished her grip, allowing Nicole to collapse back to the floor.

Curling back in on herself, she whimpered weakly, “I wasn't even at the Conclave.”

“Do you remember what happened? How this began?”

“I don't know,” Nicole repeated weakly as the trembling surged briefly in intensity then returned to low tremors. Her left hand felt hot and feeble like boiled meat while the rest of her was freezing.

“Where is Master Taigen?” Cassandra asked angrily, turning to one of the guards. “She is useless like this!”

“Master Taigen went with the Commander to the front.”

Leliana was asking another one: “What happened? She was stable not an hour ago.”

“Nothing, Sister Nightingale! She woke and began to struggle. We came to get you as soon as we were certain she was conscious.”

“All four of you?” Leliana asked.

All was silent. One of the guards cleared his throat nervously.

Cassandra groaned. “Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift.” Cassandra turned and crouched in front of Nicole as Leliana reluctantly left the room; the guards hurried after.

“You were well enough to free yourself of your chains,” Cassandra said harshly. “You are well enough to stand up.” The Seeker stood, grunting with effort as she lifted Nicole to her feet by the armpits.

Nicole knew Cassandra was right. Her mind, placid and rational, reminded her that if she did nothing, everyone would die and she would be first. Her trembling hands gripped the Seeker's forearms tightly. “I can close the breach,” she said, trying to control her shivering.

“We’ll see,” said Cassandra. She turned and started out the room, half dragging Nicole with her. “What is your name?”

“Nicole,” she sighed. Having to focus on staying upright while her legs tingled and her body trembled did an excellent job of keeping her mind off the impending march up Mt. Doom. Nicole stumbled and slipped in Cassandra's grip, her body feeling odd and off-kilter. Cassandra seemed to swear, though Nicole didn't understand what she said. “Was that Nevarran?” she wondered aloud.

“Yes,” Cassandra growled, righting Nicole. She opened her mouth but stopped as she looked down at her and frowned. “You're freezing,” the Seeker announced. “We will get some warmer clothing for you before we go. I cannot have you succumb to the elements before we reach the summit.”

“I don't think it's the cold,” Nicole replied, her voice far away, far enough apparently that Cassandra hadn’t heard her and did not reply. She had spoken aloud, hadn't she? She didn't press for a response, instead content to stare at the crates and coils of rope and stacks of folded cloth and barrels and books all cluttered in shadowy corners. They continued down the dim corridor, at last reaching the staircase that lead up into the Chantry.

“Go ahead of me, I will brace you so you do not fall,” Cassandra told her. When Nicole nodded and stumbled past her, the Seeker inhaled sharply then muttered, “You don't sound Orlesian.”

“I'm not,” Nicole said plainly, focusing on not falling as she staggered to the next step.

Cassandra's mouth settled into a thin, tight line. “You don't sound Fereldan either.”

Nicole didn't answer.

They reached the main level and had to weave between cots that were spread out where pews might have been. Nicole stared; many of the makeshift beds were occupied, several Chantry sisters milling about between them. Some of the women offered ladle scoops from a bucket while others looked to be changing bandages. She couldn't tell the injuries as they passed, but when one man having his wound fussed over cried out in pain, Nicole physically flinched. The sound loosened memories she'd locked up tight, and she was forced to catalog her senses in an attempt to remain in the present: the feel of Cassandra's grip on her elbow, squeezing nearly painful; the smell of burning wood in the braziers, the sight of her feet moving step hobble step over the stone floor and her shadow flickering across the far wall; a lingering salt in her mouth from licking her hand; the sound of-

The man cried out again, a sharp, piercing sound that left her thoughts staggering like a Jenga tower teetering on a single block.

Cassandra, personally unfazed by the cries of pain, lead Nicole to the large bedroom across from Josephine's office then closed the door behind them. She went to a wardrobe, pawing through clothes while Nicole stood quietly in the center of the room, waiting for her presence of mind to finally assert itself.

“You are a bit short,” Cassandra said suddenly, “but these will do.” She held out a stack of outerwear and a pair of boots.

Nicole took a step forward and the Seeker jerked back, surprising them both. Did Cassandra think she was dangerous? She didn't think anyone on Earth was afraid of her. She was the most mild-mannered person she knew.

Making a noise of disgust, Cassandra moved forward and shoved the clothes into Nicole's arms, retreating three paces back.

Nicole watched her. _It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay_ , she repeated before finally saying, “I can't hurt you, Cassandra.” She shuffled over to the nearest bed and dumped the pile on top, picking up and shaking loose a thick coat, the fur lining soft against her fingertips. She brushed her palms against the furred collar, saying quietly, “I don't know how to fight, no training. And as far as I know, I'm not a mage.” She set the coat down and rummaged through the rest of the clothes, setting the boots on the floor.

“As far as you know?” Cassandra repeated, squinting suspiciously.

Nicole's eyebrows scrunched up. What should she tell her? What _could_ she tell her? That she was likely as dangerous as a wet noodle? That magic wasn't real for her? ...Despite a limited study of theater, or perhaps because of it, Nicole knew she couldn't keep up any sort of elaborate charade; she wasn't much of an actor. So she unfolded the rest of the clothes and admitted softly, “There isn't any magic where I come from.”

Cassandra scoffed, but the tension in her shoulders seemed to ease somewhat. “You expect me to believe that?”

“No, not really.” Nicole held up thick wool leggings and glanced back at Cassandra. “Do I put this on over what I'm wearing or...” she trailed off uncertainly.

Cassandra made another noise of disgust, “It doesn't matter, just do it quickly.”

Nicole set to work, her brain still lagging as she kicked off her shoes and jeans to shimmy into the warm leggings. She jumped back into her jeans, wiggling them in place. The familiar, meticulous action gave her something in the moment to focus on. _I'm here, I'm here, I'm here_ , her thoughts repeated like a broken record. She swapped her t-shirt for a rough-spun tunic then sat on the bed, pulling a pair of thick socks over her thin cotton ones. Next she jammed her feet into the boots and attempted to wiggle her toes- a tight fit. She felt much better though, more solid and present within her own body.

“If you're done, we're going.”

“Okay,” Nicole said and shrugged into the fur-lined coat. She pushed herself off the bed and nearly fell forward. “Whoopsie daisie,” she said automatically, catching herself at the last moment. As she regained her footing, a sudden flash of green light and an intense, vibrating pain left her crumbled on the floor, choking on a sob.

Cassandra was at her side. “Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads,” she said as she helped her up.

“And it's killing me,” Nicole finished breathlessly, her head reeling. The mark, the pattern, was intense; each flare was as relentless as the pounding of ocean waves and the pain pulsed through her like the bass in a dance club.

“Yes.” Cassandra answered her like it was a question. In one hand she took Nicole by the wrist, the other pressed into the small of her back, leading her to the door and back out into the main hall. More gently, she said, “It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn't much time.”

Nicole nodded, shaken but not trembling this time. “I'll do whatever I can,” she replied, voice faint.

The Seeker said nothing, expression grim as they reached the main door and Cassandra released her in order to push the door open. A great wave of cold air enveloped Nicole, the chill biting and crisp; it dulled the remnants of pain in her hand. Cassandra stepped over the threshold and took three steps into the bright world beyond, turning to beckon Nicole to her.

With her eyes squinted nearly shut, Nicole followed. After the relative darkness of the Chantry, the bright daylight was disorienting and on instinct, she reached out and pinched the fabric of Cassandra's shirt sleeve, slowly looking around when her eyes could bear it.

Haven was a study in wood, mud, and thatched roof cottages. _TROGDOR_ , her brain screeched before she glanced up at the sky. Nicole stopped. She stared. The breach swirled like a model of the milky way galaxy, massive and shimmering with otherworldly light and electrical surges. Rocks and debris floated near the eye like asteroids caught in the grip of a black hole. Despite everything, it was beautiful.

“This way,” Cassandra said sharply, tugging to lead Nicole away.

She hurried to stay by the Seeker's side, Nicole's fingers tight on the fabric of her sleeve. Cassandra's stride was long and swift, but somehow Nicole found she could keep up much more easily than she could with friends back home. They walked through Haven, Nicole glancing curiously at the wooden buildings and canvas tents. Haven was large for a camp or village, crowded and bustling with activity and people in dirty, shabby clothing. It was like walking through the set of a medieval movie production. The walkways were dirt made muddy from melting snow. Tiny houses clustered closely together, the thatched roofs thick and heavy looking, overhanging the buildings and nearly touching above the street, creating a tunnel-like passage over the walkways. The people began to halt in their activities, staring as the Seeker lead her toward the gate. A low murmur among the people rose to angry jeering.

“They have decided your guilt,” Cassandra explained. “They need it.”

“It's alright,” Nicole said, looking away, “I get it.” Her grip tightened on the Seeker's sleeve.

Cassandra glanced down at her.

Nicole exhaled a breath she hadn't noticed she was holding. “The Divine's dead and I'm the only suspect,” she said quietly, looking up to meet Cassandra's stare. “Do you think I did it?”

She didn't answer and Nicole's heart sank.

The silence stretched between them as they walked through the main gates and climbed the hill to the path up the mountain.

Words slow and careful, Cassandra suddenly asked, “Do I think you are responsible?” She side-eyed Nicole and said, “No, but I do think you know more than you are saying.” Her eyes moved back to the path ahead of them.

Nicole felt herself tearing up. “I know it's silly, but _thank you_ ,” she said, a shiver zigzagging down her spine and reverberating in her voice. “Knowing that you don't think I-” she sucked on her bottom lip then took a deep cleansing breath. “I don't... think I could do this if you... Sorry.”

“It's alright,” Cassandra said, “I get it.”

Nicole smiled at her own words repeated back. _I can do this_ , she thought, _it's okay_.

They approached the first gate at the bridge and a soldier swung the doors open to allow them to pass through.

Cassandra pulled her arm free from Nicole's grip and clasped her on the shoulder. “There will be a trial. I can promise no more.”

“That's enough,” Nicole said, staring at the road up the mountain.

“Come,” the Seeker gave her a gentle shove, “it is not far.”

They crossed the bridge and Nicole realized that very soon now she would be facing off against demons. The thought left her lightheaded. She glanced back at the soldiers guarding the bridge; some of them only sat leaning against the walls, eyes closed, faces ashen. She looked ahead, the path littered with flaming rubble, the shape of a body half covered by snow. What little calm she had gained from the hike to this point was slowly slipping away as apprehension settled into her gut and gnawed on her insides.

As she jogged awkwardly behind Cassandra, familiar stabs of pain in her leg served to divide her attention. She stared at the way Cassandra's feet sunk into the snow when they cut through drifts along the edge of the well worn road. Nicole felt weird, like she were lighter somehow and at any moment she might lift off the ground and float away. The clinical part of her brain was blaring alarm bells- the disconnect she was experiencing was not good, at all, and she knew that, but she couldn't exactly sit down and meditate until reality reasserted itself, given her current situation.

With a start, Nicole came back to herself when she noticed Cassandra had stopped and was looking back at her, the neutral set to her mouth becoming a frown in the short time it took for Nicole to reach her. She struggled to swallow, her tongue thick and heavy. What did she do? Why was Cassandra angry?

“You are limping, were you injured?” Cassandra gestured at Nicole's left leg.

“Oh,” Nicole sighed, surprised and relieved. “Sort of,” she told her, trying to smile. “I was in an accident a few years ago. The cold makes it a little sore.”

Cassandra considered this then took Nicole by the hand. “We must hurry.” She tugged her along the path. “Lean on me, if it helps.”

“Thank you,” Nicole's chin trembled- _Dammit_. Even if it wasn't out of actual concern for her well being, the kindness was appreciated. Nicole was confused and disoriented, of course her emotions would be frayed, but it was also sort of galling that she was crying almost every few minutes. She thought she was stronger than this.

Nicole took a cleansing breath and looked ahead. Their path lead to another snow covered bridge built of large blocks of stone. She assumed it was the second one that-

The sky pulsed with green light and not a second after, Nicole's marked hand flared an echoing reply, pain burning through her flesh as if her blood were molten steel and her nails were dry ice. She collapsed to her knees, shoving her hand into the snow in search of relief, gasping air like she'd had the wind knocked out of her.

Cassandra was on her knees beside her. “Breathe,” she said, “the pulses are coming faster now. I cannot imagine the pain, but you must push past it.” Her face was grim as she helped Nicole to her feet. “The larger the Breach grows, the more rifts appear, the more demons we face.”

“The bigger the mark gets,” Nicole added, staring down at her hand. Maybe it was all in her head, but the swirling pattern seemed to be creeping up her fingers. She shuddered. Everything seemed to be progressing the way she'd seen it, with only minor differences so far. So the next bridge was going to collapse. Should she tell her?

Cassandra led her through the open archway of the next bridge and with each step, she could feel herself tensing. Nicole objectively cataloged the signs that she was about to throw up, watery mouth, tightening in her chest and throat... _I can't fucking do this_ , she thought and clung to Cassandra's arm.

“Wait, wait.”

The Seeker turned around, angry. “There is no time to-”

Suddenly a comet of green light and rubble tore across the sky and crashed into the bridge, launching crates and unfortunate soldiers into the air as the stone gave way beneath them. Cassandra pushed Nicole back, sending her tumbling to land on the stable portion of the bridge while the Seeker fell with the stones to the frozen river below.

_Convenient_ , Nicole thought blankly as she scrambled towards the collapsed portion of the bridge. “Cassandra!” she all but screamed. On hands and knees she peered over the side in time to watch the Seeker pick herself up. “Cassandra, are you alright?” She was trembling again.

Cassandra looked up, “I'm fine, are you?”

“Yes.” Nicole pointed at the swirling black and green light to Cassandra's right, ignoring the way her hand shook. “That's going to be a demon in a minute and another one is about to-”

The next crash interrupted Nicole's warning and a demon quickly pulled itself from the ground. The hulking creature was chilling even from a distance, rags fluttering from it's back, black and slick as oil. Limbs as long as tree boughs with sharp steely claws raked the air. The creature shrieked like nails on a chalkboard, turning one large, bulbous eye towards the two women.

Cassandra drew her sword and shield. “Stay there!” she shouted, charging the demon.

Nicole obeyed, tremors vibrating from her core out to her fingers and toes. Teeth chattering, she looked back at the other swirling mass on the ice below her, the first comet. Green light erupted from the bubbling void like crystal stalagmites that shattered when the shade burst free from the floor. Nicole's mind was filled with silent screeching as bile rose to the back of her throat, shallow breaths constricted as her body fought for control. The creature looked up at her and howled, a grating, unearthly noise. She stared dumbly at the demon, even her detached thoughts silent.

She looked away and her eyes found Cassandra. The Seeker fought the other demon across the ice, each strike of her sword unequivocally elegant and brutal. Nicole found that as she watched, her thoughts returned to her. She knew nothing about sword fighting other than what she'd seen in movies and one brief fencing lesson at summer camp, and that had been more than ten years ago, but even so, she felt she understood now why it was often described as dancing. Cassandra twirled and swung her blade around; it glanced off the demon's arm; she thrust the sword straight for the shade's chest, but it dropped down away from the attack.

The sound of shifting rubble brought Nicole's attention back to the demon below her. The shade was clawing at the rubble, looking for purchase to climb up. It screamed at her and Nicole took a steadying breath. With a clearer head she looked around for something, anything she could use to protect herself.

Among the rubble were the remains of supply crates. After the comet had hit the bridge, the blasted crates and their contents had been scattered. Nicole's eyes fell upon a bow, arrows strewn across the floor nearby. Her hands still trembled, but she pushed herself into a crouch and picked her way over to the bow, nervously snatching up arrows as she went. Weapon in hand, she crawled back to the shade and awkwardly nocked an arrow. She shuffled closer to the edge and looked over- the shade wailed up at her. She pulled back on the bowstring, her arms trembling from effort or fear.

_Like at summer camp_ , she told herself and released the arrow. It struck a rock to the left of the shade. She giggled, panic building within her again, and then she tried again. Her next shot flew from her fingertips, the bowstring twanging like a plucked guitar chord. The arrow struck the ground and she put the bow down. With little thought, Nicole picked up one of the loose stones and chucked it at the shade as hard as she could, striking it on the shoulder. It squealed, tumbling back to the ground. She picked up another stone, throwing it with both hands and putting the force of her body into it. The stone hit the shade's head and it collapsed into a silent heap. Just as Nicole reached for another stone, Cassandra stepped forward and plunged her blade deep into the shade's chest. It struggled like a wacky waving inflatable arm flailing tube man, then went still. The body poofed into black wisps of smoke.

“Cassandra,” Nicole sighed, nearly collapsing with relief.

All business, Cassandra quickly surveyed the rubble. “I will not be able to climb up,” she said and looked at the other side of the bridge behind her. “And you will not be able to cross.” The Seeker sheathed her sword and shield, then held out her arms. “You will have to jump.”

Nicole swallowed but got to her knees. “I'm really heavy.”

“I can handle it.”

“...God,” Nicole muttered as she got to her feet. Only a few short years ago she'd had to trust others to catch her. They'd done trust falls on the first day of her first acting class. The bridge was much higher than the box she'd stood on and this time instead of ten people, there was only one. She also couldn't stand on the ledge and cry for thirty minutes before jumping. There wasn't enough time. “Alright,” she squeaked. “Are you ready?”

“Yes!” said Cassandra, waving a hand for her to hurry.

Nicole's hands tightened into fists. “One!” Her chin quivered. “Two!” Her whole body shuddered. “Two!” The word itself shook. “Two!” Her feet felt as heavy as concrete blocks. She tried again, “-!” but only a wet, terrified sound came from her mouth.

“Nicole, I swear on all I hold sacred- I WILL CATCH YOU.”

A desperate sob tore loose from her throat, but Nicole hopped off the edge of the ruined bridge, her arms wrapped protectively around herself.

Cassandra caught Nicole, grunting and stumbling with the effort. She looked Nicole up and down. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, her eyes and jaw clenched painfully shut as the Seeker set her on her feet.

Cassandra sighed wearily, “If you must cry, then do so quickly.”

The words released her like a sudden lever being thrown. Her legs buckled and Nicole slumped to the ground, wailing. She cried and her hands clutched the snow, her body folded and her face pressed against her knees. Gasping between sobs, her mind was both an empty blankness and a repeating playback of her every moment of helplessness- falling off a speeding wave-runner and bouncing off the water, laying on the grass screaming with her knee cap twisted unnaturally to the side of her leg, staring at the wheels of a truck as they slowly rolled back and over her again, the squeal of tires before a force slammed into the back of her car, standing on that _goddamn_ block staring at ten strangers and being expected to trust them not to drop her on the concrete fucking floor.

“It'sokayit'sokayit'sokayStopStopit'sokayit'sokayI'mhereNowI'mhereI'mhere.”

The tears slowed to a stop as her eyes roved over the snow. She gulped mouthfuls of air, her chest aching. Her hands were pink against the white snow, fingers growing red from the cold. Nicole became aware of a hand rubbing hesitant circles against the curve of her spine. She took a painful breath.

“I'm sorry,” she said, barely above a whisper. She couldn't bring herself to lift her head, her eyes locked onto her bare hands.

“What happened?” Cassandra asked, not soft or gentle, not quite, but not rough or angry either.

“Everything,” she replied. Nicole shrugged, still looking at her hands. She felt the way they looked. She knew that her answer wasn't enough. “Comets, demons,” she said listlessly, “by themselves.... they’re already pretty...” she searched for a word and settled on: “Disturbing?” She sat back, finally lifting her hands away from the snow. “I have Post-” she stopped and thought about how to say it, finally looking up at Cassandra to say, “I have what's called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Your people might… might call it Soldier's Fatigue?”

“Oh,” Cassandra said, her impassivity transforming- recognition, surprise, pity.

Nicole lifted herself up carefully. “I'm okay,” she said, uncomfortable with the look on Cassandra's face. “It'll be easier now that I got that out of my system. It'll be easier.” Was she reassuring Cassandra or herself? She turned away, emotionally exhausted, and her eyes caught sight of a short sword that had been scattered in the blast.

Cassandra's gaze followed and she moved to retrieve the blade, then returned to Nicole's side. “Honestly,” she said, “I am not sure what I was thinking, bringing you up here alone.” She held the sword out to Nicole. “I will not always be able to protect you, and you cannot be defenseless.”

Nicole nodded solemnly and gripped the hilt tightly. “I'll try not to lop off any of my own limbs,” she said, trying to smile.

“See that you don't,” Cassandra returned dryly. She lead Nicole along the frozen river, offering her hand as they picked their path over the ice.

As they began their ascent over the first rise, Nicole pulled back. “There might be two more shades on the other side of this hill.” She met Cassandra's gaze, “I'm not entirely sure.”

The Seeker said nothing, face neutral as she glanced around them. Turning back towards the peak of the hill, she gave Nicole a muttered “wait here,” then crept to the top of the hill.

Nicole watched her scan the area ahead. When she scowled and waved down to her, Nicole shifted her sword to both hands as if she held a bat, her fingers stiff from the cold, then went to her side.

The Seeker unsheathed her sword and readied her shield, nodding down the sudden incline at the two shades ahead of them. One demon watched it's reflection in the ice while the other seemed absorbed in dragging it's claws through the snow. They seemed sort of... distracted. It reminded Nicole of her first time in the snow when she was a kid. She and her sister became so absorbed in understanding and exploring, that the day passed in the blink of an eye. It was the first and only time she'd seen snow, actual snow, at least until now.

“Once we reach them,” Cassandra whispered, “I will shout to draw their attention. Flank them and plunge your blade into one, close to the heart and as deep as you can manage.” She regarded Nicole evenly. “If I fall, you must run, as fast as you can. Do you understand?”

“Wait,” Nicole replied, a quiver in her voice.

Cassandra made a disgusted noise, but before she could say anything else, Nicole began scanning the ground. The Seeker stilled, watching as Nicole's face became less tense and she stood upright gripping a fist sized rock in one hand. Nicole set her sword down and prepared for a wind-up.

“What are you doing?” hissed Cassandra.

Nicole let fly the rock, easily sending it sailing over the heads of the shades and clattering against the ice behind an outcropping boulder. The shades jerked and swarmed towards the sound as Nicole scooped up her sword and took off, running more quickly than her old injury normally allowed. The soft, swift crunch of Cassandra's steps easily caught her and the Seeker took Nicole's free hand and led her at an even faster speed.

They rounded the next bend and Nicole's eyes went wide- the next shade and the wraith that were supposed to be by the stone steps were nowhere to be seen. She exhaled long and low as Cassandra slowed. The Seeker's grip remained tight on Nicole's hand. Cassandra glanced at her and frowned.

“How did you know those demons would be there? … And on the bridge,” Cassandra pulled Nicole to a stop and stared down at her. “You knew somehow, that the bridge would collapse. How?”

Nicole hesitated. How could she answer? What should she say?

Cassandra tugged on her hand.

“I don't know how to explain.”

“Really,” Cassandra said flatly.

Nicole pointed ahead of them and said in a slow and halting voice, “In a few minutes, another set of demons is going to fall from the Breach and crash over there.” She tugged Cassandra's hand. “Let's get past before that happens.”

Cassandra's eyes shot up to the path ahead of them and she clenched her jaw tightly. “Very well,” she said through her teeth, “but I do expect answers.” Her grip on Nicole's hand tightened and they charged up the stairs.

Rushing down the incline and into the clearing, Nicole only just barely stayed on her feet. The next set of stone steps was just ahead of them, but there were no signs of the wraiths or the shade. Cassandra was pulling her up the first few steps when a tell tale streak of green crashed to the ground behind them. Nicole chanced a look back as they ran up the steps, just in time to witness two wraiths materialize from the fallen light. The two women had passed between and beyond two statues standing vigil over the steps when Cassandra slowed to a jog and glanced back over her own shoulder.

“It seems we were not seen,” she said lowly.

Nicole nodded. They pressed on. Halfway up and breathing shallowly, Nicole thought about climbing the stairs on all fours like she'd do when she was a kid... She glanced up at Cassandra. The other woman's opinion of her kept her upright.

“We're getting close to the rift,” Cassandra said suddenly. “You can hear the fighting.”

Nicole cocked her head, straining for whatever sound Cassandra had heard- she could just make out a clanging, probably metal, and the distant screech of a shade. She shuddered and her heart pounded in her chest. _Who's fighting_ , she wanted to say, but instead Nicole kept quiet and pulled on Cassandra's hand, willing her own body to move faster.

They reached the last step. Cassandra dropped Nicole's hand to run ahead, towards the ledge and the low floating fracture of glowing green light. She jumped from the ledge, disappearing from view.

“Nicole, jump down to me,” she heard Cassandra shout, so she charged to the ledge and looked down. Cassandra waited below, arms outstretched.

“She already caught you,” Nicole reminded herself as her insides turned icy and her heart thundered against her rib-cage. Feeling ill, she closed her eyes and jumped, cannon-balling high into the air. Cassandra seemed to catch her more easily this time, but still made a noise of effort. They turned from the force of her jump, flowing into a half-spin as Cassandra twisted to set her on her feet before charging to Solas and Varric's aid.

Nicole stood, shaken but otherwise fine. Her eyes fluttered open and she inhaled sharply; the fighting was a fast flurry of movement. There was Varric beneath the green glow of the fade rift, Bianca firing off arrows almost as quickly as a pistol with bullets. She turned her head and Solas was there, wielding his staff with fierce grace. Cassandra screamed a defiant challenge before pushing a shade back with her shield.

_Close the rift before more come through_ , an echo from the game reminded her. She hurried over the debris and along the wall, crouching down and doing her best to avoid notice. She refused to look over towards the battle as she crept quickly to a collapsed pillar beneath the rift. All she could think about was the game- did she need to wait for all of the demons to be defeated? Would it be as simple as Dorian said? Wiggle fingers, rift closed. She stared down at her hand, the din of the battle drifting to the back of her mind.

“Visualize and attack,” she said to the swirls imprinted in her skin. She imagined the scene- Solas grabbing the Herald’s wrist and reaching for the Fade. The mark on her hand sparked at the image. _Intention and will?_ she wondered. She turned back to the battle.

Cassandra’s blade was lodged in the body of one shade. She pulled her sword free violently, grunting like a lady tennis player from the effort. The shade dissipated into black smoke. To her left, Varric let loose a barrage of crossbow bolts that struck the last demon with a thunking noise like fast rain on a tin roof. The monster disappeared.

Solas was running towards Nicole, his face grim and determined, so she turned and thrust her left hand into the air, imagining what it would do. An explosion of light and sensation erupted from her hand and the rift became like a black hole, channeling through the mark and sucking in the Fade light and the black crystallized energy surrounding it. The feeling was like playing tug o' war, an invisible rope pulling her hand towards the rift. Then suddenly the rope snapped and Nicole's hand jolted back towards her, the glow of the mark dying down to rippling aftershocks. She stared dumbly at her hand. Without looking away, she reached behind her, right hand gripping the pillar stones in an attempt to steady her weakening legs.

“Hey, woah, easy there-” said a comfortingly familiar voice. Two sturdy hands helped her settle on the piled up stones.

Nicole looked at the dwarf. “Hello Varric,” she said; her voice shook and her eyes stung.

Varric was the same as the Varric she'd watched through her screen, but as close to reality as computer graphics were becoming, there was a depth and warmth to him that made him real, made this whole nightmare real. His skin shone with beads of sweat and the creases in his forehead and around his eyes deepened with the concerned look on his face. Her chin trembled and she had to stop herself from reaching out and touching the scar across his nose. Nicole turned away to compose herself, but she came up eye to eye with Solas.

He stood only paces away. He stared.

Varric waved at Cassandra, “Hey Seeker, Firefly here looks pretty shaken up.”

_Firefly_ , Nicole's thoughts echoed numbly.

Cassandra stopped her examination of the corpses of two Inquisition soldiers, and when she looked over, her face was solemn. She glanced over her shoulder at the bodies, then stood slowly, as if the ground itself were trying to prevent her rising. Cassandra moved over the rubble haltingly, though it was not the debris that hampered her movement.

“Cassandra,” Solas said as she neared, “you should know: the magic involved here is unlike any I have seen.” He looked at Nicole, then back to Cassandra. “Your prisoner is no mage. Indeed, I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power.”

Nicole mouthed the words silently to herself. _Does this count as a tenth play-through?_

“Understood,” the Seeker said on a sigh. She knelt beside Varric, tilting her head as she examined Nicole, searching for something. “Are you hurt?”

Nicole shook her head, “Fine, just...” she looked at the three people around her, people she knew, in a way. They don't know her, they've never met. Nothing could have prepared her for this. Nicole's face began to crumble and she quickly took a shuddering breath to stop it. “This is just a lot to take in,” she said, breathing carefully for a few more moments to reign in her emotions.

Cassandra sighed again, standing and looking away.

“I am pleased to see you still live,” Solas told her softly, breaking the sudden tension.

Nicole looked up at him, surprised by the gentleness in his voice. The scar on Solas' forehead was more prominent, longer, stretching from his right eyelid across his forehead and stopping inches from his left temple. The elf's shaved head was shaded by the memory of hair and his clothing seemed much more tattered in person.

A short chuckle escaped Varric, drawing her attention to her left. “He means, 'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.'”

Nicole nodded up at her companions, mustering up a smile. “Thank you Solas.”

He looked at her intently, “Forgive me: Cassandra clearly told you our names, but she has yet to extend the same courtesy to us.”

Cassandra's eyes shot up; she gave Nicole a long hard look. “How rude of me,” she said, still staring at Nicole, “Solas, Varric, this is Nicole.”

“It's really nice to meet you,” she told them sincerely. She chanced a look at Cassandra; the Seeker was still staring; Nicole looked at her hands. “I'm... ready to go if you're all ready.”

Varric nodded, “Yeah, I'd rather not be ass-deep in demons forever. I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to become friends in the valley, Firefly.”

“Absolutely not.” Cassandra exhaled sharply, “Your help is appreciated, Varric, but-”

“Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker?” he interrupted. “Your soldiers aren't in control anymore,” Varric lowered his voice, dipping his head to the side, “You need me.”

Cassandra glared down at him, then turned away with a disgusted noise. Finally she said, “You- you are right... We must get to the forward camp.” She returned to where Nicole sat and offered her hand, which Nicole took with a soft 'thanks'. The Seeker held on even after helping Nicole rise. She looked around them, her expression contemplative. After a moment, Cassandra cleared her throat. “Is there anything we should know about the path ahead?” she asked.

Both Varric and Solas grew still, watching the two women with a curiosity born from different origins.

Nicole's eyes skittered to Cassandra's chin. “There's... more demons.”

Solas leaned against his staff, “That is easily apparent to everyone.”

“Seeker?” Varric questioned cautiously.

“Nicole,” Cassandra prompted, ignoring both of the men, “Your mark is the key to sealing the Breach-”

“Possibly,” Solas interjected.

“My point is,” Cassandra continued more loudly, “that we need to protect you. Is there anything you can say to make that task easier?”

“Seeker? Where are you going with this?”

Cassandra ignored him, her gaze trained on Nicole.

She bit the corner of her lip. With her free hand, Nicole gestured towards the path down the slope. “When we get to the bottom, the path follows a river that opens up into a frozen pond.” She closed her eyes and envisioned the tactical view, then counted the demons. Nicole opened her eyes and met Cassandra's gaze, “There might be two wraiths and two shades.”

Cassandra swore an oath under her breath while Solas simply lifted an assessing eyebrow.

“Look, for now I'm not going to question the logistics of this-” Varric shook his head and took a step back. “Cassandra is taking you too seriously for me not to just go with it. But!” He looked pointedly at Nicole, “You said 'might'?” He gestured expectantly.

“It hasn't all been the same,” she said, her words tiptoeing. She looked up at Cassandra, “There were supposed to be demons at that first set of stairs, but there weren't.” She frowned. “I don't know what's going to change and what'll stay the same. I can only make educated guesses.”

“Well this is all rather vague,” said Solas, king of vague. “I imagine, however, that we haven't the time to delve into the specifics right now.” Solas smiled, an odd edge of humor in his expression.

“Yes,” Cassandra said, “We will have much to discuss once the Breach is sealed.” She turned and started for the path, Solas close behind. “This way, down the bank.”

Nicole and Varric moved to follow. When they reached the wooden barricade, the dwarf vaulted over it then offered his hand to Nicole. She accepted and awkwardly swung her legs over to the other side.

“Well,” Varric said as he steadied her, “Bianca's excited!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If all goes well, I plan to post the next portion just before Halloween.  
> Thank you for taking the time to read my work.


	2. The Wrath of Heaven, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole continues on to the Temple of Sacred Ashes.  
> Warning for brief instances of dissociation, dislocation of a joint, and ptsd flashbacks.

 

.The Wrath of Heaven, part 2.

 

“There's the pond,” Varric said with a cautious nod, his voice strained and breathy from the descent.

Out of breath herself, Nicole inhaled slowly, trying to wrangle her breathing into submission. She looked out over the little clearing. The iced over pond glistened, reflecting the eerie green light of the Breach.

_ What if it’s too thin to cross _ , she suddenly thought, then repeated aloud.

The entire party held very still, contemplating. They exchanged meaningful looks that Nicole couldn’t interpret, then Cassandra announced:

“I will test the ice.”

Solas smiled, “With all due respect, Seeker, your armor alone makes you the least qualified.”

“Chuckles! Are you volunteering? You shouldn’t have.”

“Not at all. I am saying we should find a way around.”

“Out of the question- it would take entirely too long. Varric is the shortest, he is the clear choice.”

“Did you forget that I’m also the widest?”

Good lord, it was like her parents fighting over what to get for dinner. Nicole frowned, chewing her bottom lip. She hadn’t meant to cause a fight. Her hand throbbed, its rawness stark against the blue-white of the ice. Should she just go and hope for the best? Her eyes followed the shore, looking for breaks in the ice, but she had no idea what to look for. Then her skimming stopped on a rock three times the size of her fist.  _ Oh. _ She went to it, hoisting it up then shot putting it out over the ice.

The stone clattered noisily, skitting to the center of the pond.

Silence.

“... Is your solution to every problem you face simply to throw rocks at it?”

She looked cautiously at the Seeker; Cassandra was smiling. Feeling daring, Nicole replied, “You have to admit it’s been pretty effective so far.” She took a tentative step on the ice, shifting her weight experimentally. Nothing happened.

They all shuffled slowly, silently. Nicole wondered if they were quiet for the same reason as her. That is, fear that the sound would make the ice more likely to crack. She kept thinking about how avalanches in movies always seemed to be caused by a noise… maybe ice was the same.

Several silent steps more and Varric filled the empty air with a grumble. “Shit. I fucking hate ice.” His next step hit a slick patch, as if the ice had understood and resented the comment, sending his foot out in front of him, his arms pinwheeling, fighting to keep him upright.

Cassandra laughed, actually laughed, grabbing the dwarf roughly by the collar of his duster, steadying him.

He latched onto her wrist like a lifeline. “My hero,” he said tightly.

Nicole smiled, but the rumbling start of her laughter left her loose and unstable. The amusement died premature as she coiled herself up tightly. She inched forward, bit by bit, stiff arms outstretched to catch herself should she fall.

Behind them, Solas sighed. She carefully looked back over her shoulder. He stood stock still, feet firmly planted in the snow covered dirt.

He stared.

Goosebumps broke out all over her arms. “Are you coming?” she asked as politely as she could.

“Yes,” Solas replied, blinking owlishly before looking away. “I was simply waiting to see if either of them would fall.” He smiled, “It would have been quite the sight, but alas.” He nodded across the pond where their companions had safely reached the other side. “Come,” he said and started confidently across the ice.

Nicole shuffled after him, but the distance between them quickly grew. 

_ It would be really cliched if he got across and then the ice broke. _

Nicole’s body tensed; internally, she screamed in frustration. Why? Why had she thought that? She stared down at the ice, her focus intense.  _ How dare you, brain? Who hurt you?  _ A rhetorical question if ever there was one. She chanced a glance up and all her beratement stuttered to a halt.

Solas stood waiting. The corner of his mouth quirked up slightly and he asked her, “Are you... coming?”

A surprised bark of laughter leapt from her lips, breaking apart the ice that held her frozen inside.  _ Thank you _ , she thought, then said, “Yeah, I’m trying.” She stared down at the ice again and took broader steps. Each shift onward was hasty and unsteady, but she didn't want to keep everyone waiting. For all she knew, she wasn’t wrong about the demons that were supposed to be here. They could just be delayed. She grimaced. The thought was terrible, especially as she tried to imagine fighting on the slippery surface. Ridiculous. The game mechanics should have accounted for difficult terrain. She sighed, "I guess I'm lucky I changed shoes, I don't think my Converses have any grip left."

"Perhaps," Solas said, his feet stopping in front of her.

_ How are his toes not covered in frostbite? _ Nicole looked up and asked incredulously, “How are you  _ barefoot _ ? Aren’t your feet  _ cold _ ?”

Solas looked down at her with a chuckle, his smile skewing to the side. “An old elvhen trick. Here,” he held out his hand. "Seeker Cassandra appears ready to march back and carry you across."

Nicole sighed, "Thank you." She was disappointed with herself for some reason. She placed her hand in his- worn and firm, smooth calluses from god knows how long handling a staff.  Their fingers closed around the other's hand and it hit her like a ton of bricks-

"This is real," she said with dreadful wonder. She stared straight ahead, watching Varric and Cassandra but not really seeing them.

"Pardon?" Solas asked sharply, his voice cutting through the blanket wrapped around her thoughts.

"I think deep down I thought this had to be a dream. Like I’m napping and eventually I’ll wake up in bed or something and this’ll just fade away like my other dreams.” Nicole became aware of the tension in her body again, like frost creeping across a pane of windows. She felt as though she'd stopped moving five steps back and was simply watching Solas lead her away.

They reached the others. Varric spoke and Nicole heard him, but she’d no idea what he’d said. She grasped at the tendrils of sound, using it to pull herself back into her own mind.

Solas’ chest rumbled, amused. “What would the Inquisition do without our stabilizing influence, Master Tethras?” He released her hand and stepped away, leaving her reeling.

“I assume they’d just start burning things.” Varric winked at Nicole, grin broad.

“That does sound like most humans I know,” Solas replied, starting towards the looming stairs ahead of them.  

“If you  _ gentlemen _ are quite finished?” Cassandra frowned between them.

“Now now, don’t get touchy,” Varric told her. “We’re just here to lend you simple humans our help.”

Solas stopped on the first step, looking back, “Before you cause everything to explo-”

The sky screamed, a streak of green light plummeting towards them.

“Shit!”

The Fade comet crashed into the ice with a deafening noise, like the screech of grinding metal. Rough leather of a steering wheel grasped tightly in her hand-

_ Stop. _

Lurching forward from the force of the blow, not enough to deploy the airbag. Her knees trembled while the sound of squealing tires repeated in her head.

_ STOP. _

She could hear shouting, saw movement, but could not focus enough to understand what was happening. Seatbelt biting into her shoulder. Breath ragged, punched out of her like a hit to the solar plexus. Rattling to pieces.

_ STOP! _

A vice gripped her arm and there was a face right in front of her.

“Stay here!” Cassandra shouted before the vice and face were gone.

_ Five things you can see, _ said the placid voice of her thoughts.

The knees of her jeans were damp, the moisture making them a darker shade of blue. The snow around her was a grey-brownish color, churned up from her fall; had she fallen? One of the burning shacks looked ready to collapse, and the frozen pond was shattered. Demons floundered in the pond, huge chunks of ice shifting and groaning as the shrieking shades tried to pull themselves up.

Nicole shook like a leaf on a tree where she sat half reclined in the snow. The sound was deafening, light overbright.

“Don’t move!” Solas shouted before the blue light of a barrier enveloped her.

She turned, her head swimming. Varric stood atop the stairs, firing arrows furiously at enemies she could not see. Solas moved nearer to her, drawing her attention. His shoulders hunched defensively as he swung his drawn staff, each spell making a melodious hum. She tried to get up.

“Don’t move!” Solas repeated vehemently. Green light whizzed past his head, sparks sizzling above his shoulder where the light bounced off his barrier. 

She froze, her shoulders locking up as her eyes frantically scanned the pond. There were only two shades trying to claw their way onto the ice flows. Their weight shifted and rotated the frozen slabs so that the moment one seemed to find a foothold, they would suddenly upset the ice and tumble back into the water. They were stuck, but floating there above the ice, barely corporeal and glowing faintly, were two wraiths. One wraith twisted, launching a glowing orb of green light towards the shore where Nicole lay. Solas hastily stepped in front of her, sparks popping noisily as the barrier rippled.

“Solas-” she gasped. Where was Cassandra?

“Hold on, Chuckles!” Varric called down, taking the stairs two at a time as he loaded Bianca. He stopped midway and shot off a barrage, drawing one wraith’s attention and dissipating the other.

“Get up, quickly,” Solas said, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. They rushed up the steps, Varric covering their escape.

“Where’s Cassandra?” Nicole asked. She felt heavy, as though she were wearing a full suit of armour.

“Over here,” Cassandra called down, appearing at the top of the stairs. Her sword and shield were drawn, both glistening with splatters of ichor.

“I don’t- what  _ happened _ ?” Nicole asked desperately. The blue light around her sputtered and then faded away.

“You froze up,” Varric said gruffly as they reached Cassandra on the landing, “we started running up the stairs, but you just stood there.”

As soon as they’d moved out of view of the floundering shades, their pace eased.

Cassandra looked Nicole up and down. “One of the demons struck you with a spell. How do you feel?”

“Heavy,” she told them. “I’m sorry I,” Nicole sighed resignedly, “I’m sorry. The sound of the ice was a lot like…” She swallowed, her eyes trained on the ground. The snow was disturbed, kicked up and trampled and splattered with oil-like ooze. She looked up, wide-eyed, and found Cassandra’s gaze. “You were fighting the other demons?”

Cassandra nodded.

“I forgot to tell you about the ones up here,” Nicole gripped the hem of her coat tightly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was going to be so chaotic. Ah-I thought we’d have some time between, so I could tell you.”

Varric shrugged, “We worked it out ourselves.”

Nicole nodded, her clenched fists tightening.

“Enough,” Cassandra sheathed her sword, “we are nearly there.” She motioned for Nicole to stop and stood beside her, asking, “What should we expect next?”

Nicole looked doubtful. “There’s a rift at the gate, but I can't remember how many there were. I think there’re some soldiers who help.” She cupped her hands around her mouth and blew on her fingers, hiding her frown. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Cassandra assured her. “Come.”

They continued up the incline, but soon Varric cleared his throat.

“You wouldn't happen to be-” he scratched his chin, his gloved fingers rasping his stubble noisily, “well, part dwarf, would you?”

Nicole glanced at him, somewhat taken aback. “I don't think so? Am I dwarfy?”

He looked more directly at Nicole and said thoughtfully, “Sort of? Elements of you, like the shape of your face and the uh, set of your shoulders.” He ducked his head and flashed her a lopsided smile. “Sorry if the comparison offends you.”

“It doesn’t,” she said plainly. Nicole looked at the steps in front of her then said off-handedly, “My mom’s shorter than you, but I don't think that makes her a dwarf.”

Varric nodded, his own thoughts percolating within him. Eventually he asked quietly, “Are you a Seer? Like the ones in Rivain?”

Nicole shook her head. “They’re mages, aren’t they? I don’t have magic.”

Solas fell in step beside them, “Then what are you?”

She frowned and looked up at Cassandra, marching on ahead of them. The Seeker had glanced back at her over her shoulder but quickly looked away when their eyes met. Nicole's gaze fell to Cassandra's heels.

“I'm-” She exhaled sharply, trying to force out her own building frustration. “I'm the worst possible choice for  _ this _ ,” she held out her marked hand, staring blankly at the intricate pattern of the swirls. “I don’t really have any skills that would be useful for all this.” Quietly she added, “I don't know how to fight and, and every three steps I’m crying or freaking out.” She shuddered, her chest constricting. “I mean, I studied communication, how is that going to help me fight a demon?” Her voice grew shrill, eyes stinging from unshed tears- “Do I negotiate it into submission?” Nicole wrapped her arms around herself. “I shouldn't _ be _ here,” she said emphatically.

“But you are,” Cassandra said sternly, turning to face her. “Whether we like it or not, you have the mark, you are the only one who can help us. And,” she gestured toward Nicole, “for reasons you have not shared, you have foreknowledge that can guide us.” She took the last few steps between them and clasped Nicole’s shoulder. “We will get through this. Guide us as best you can, and we shall do the same.”

Breathing deeply, Nicole nodded. “Thank you,” she said. She would do what she could, help in her own way. Baby Steps. She wasn’t going to stop Corypheus in a day. Focus on the moment. Make plans, but accept that they won’t always work the way you want them too.  _ It’s okay. I don’t need to be perfect…  _ There was a sort of comfort in knowing that the events were mostly following the story she knew. She clenched her fist, “I can do this.”

Cassandra nodded, pleased.

“Thatta girl,” Varric said, slapping Nicole’s other shoulder.

The Breach flared with light then and Nicole's hand pulsed with pain. A cry leapt past her lips. She fell to her knees, her pulse pounding in her ears as she clawed at the snow, desperately burying the searing pain beneath the cold slush. Her name repeated all around her, concerned murmurs she could do nothing to reassure. Clenching her teeth, she fought to control her reaction and squeeze the pain into a box she might ignore, but it was too much. It moved through her, waves that crashed around every obstacle so that all she could do was hold on and ride it out. As suddenly as it had started, the pain stopped and Nicole slumped to the ground, the snow clinging to her burning skin.

“I gotcha,” Varric murmured sympathetically. He gently pulled her up and held her steady while she breathed in and out deeply.

Nicole held up her trembling hands, her glassy eyes staring for a moment before she pressed them into the collar of her coat and closed her eyes.

“I-I’ll be alright,” she said.

The mark was spreading.

It was like something out of a Ghibli film. She wanted to laugh and cry; great big Ghibli Tears™ streaming down her cheeks while she threw back her head and laughed. She opened her eyes and stared bitterly up at the glowing vortex of death.

“Can you stand?”

“Shit Seeker, give her a chance to catch her breath!”

“We cannot stop,” Cassandra said, her body rigid with tension. “If the Breach is not sealed soon, Nicole will likely die.”

Varric scowled, digging in his heels.

Nicole groaned. “Please just help me up.” She held out her shaking hands and both Varric and Cassandra hauled her up.

“Lean on me, Firefly,” Varric told her as he took her by the arm.

“Yes,” Cassandra agreed, supporting her on her other side, “Or if you think you cannot go on, simply tell me- I will carry you.”

Tears gathered in her eyes as she said fondly, “You guys are killing me.”

“Not yet,” Solas chimed in, “but if we don't hurry, we just might.”

“Way to lighten the mood, Chuckles.”

“He isn't wrong,” said Cassandra.

“Let's go faster,” said Nicole. The group silently pressed on, the rhythmic crunch of the snow leaving her lethargic.

Soon they stood before the gate to the forward camp, a rift between them and a place to regroup. Solas cast his barrier as Cassandra released Nicole's hand, drawing her sword and shield to charge at the approaching demons. Varric stepped up between the rift and Nicole, loading his crossbow with deft hands. He fired rapidly before he twisted and tossed an arc of caltrops around them, serving as an additional buffer.

Adrenaline stirred Nicole from her exhaustion as a shade lunged towards Varric. She threw her left hand out desperately- the rift flared with a great crackle; she clenched her fist and the rift inverted, sucking up Fade energy and pulling back the demons like a powerful vacuum. The wraiths, with their ghost-like forms, went first and easily, while the shades resisted, clawing the ground desperately. Nicole braced herself, pulling back on the force between her hand and the rift, and the suction increased, lifting the shades clear off the ground and sucking them, squealing, back into the Fade. The tether between Nicole and the rift snapped as the portal sealed shut and her arm whipped back painfully. She stood panting, bent over and staring at the snow while her arm tingled numbly.

“By the Maker!” a voice swore.

Crunching steps hurried over and two hands held her shoulders, stopping a rocking she hadn't noticed.

“I have you,” Cassandra told her before shouting, “The rift is gone, open the gate!”

“Right away, Lady Cassandra!”

A second long fingered grip joined the Seeker's, taking her right arm.

“We are clear for the moment,” Solas said, somewhat winded. “Well done.”

Varric took Nicole’s left arm and muttered, “Whatever that thing on your hand is, it's useful.”

“I didn't know I could do that yet,” Nicole stuttered. She felt so heavy, her eyes drooping as they passed through the gates.

“Over here,” Cassandra said, pushing her to sit on a crate near a pile of equipment, pieces of armor with stains and dents. The Seeker stood and gazed further down the bridge, lips growing thin and tight.

“Chancellor Roderick wants to call a retreat,” Nicole said, her eyes drifting closed and then fluttering back open.

Solas leaned against his staff. He looked at Cassandra and said, matter-of-fact, “We likely won't reach the Breach without military support.”

Cassandra sighed. “Wait here.” She left them by the supplies, marching to where the bureaucrat was fighting the Left hand of the Divine.

Varric moved to stand closer to Nicole and shook a water skin in her direction. “How're you doing Firefly?”

Nicole blinked rapidly.  _ I should stand, I’m going to fall asleep before I close the Breach. _ She held out her hand and Varric pressed the skin into her grasp. “Still alive,” she said, struggling to remove the cork.

Varric chuckled despite his furrowing brow. He reached over and pulled the cork stopper out with a little pop that made Nicole smile. 

“I'll be alright once this is over,” she insisted then pressed the mouthpiece to her lips, sucking out a sip. She coughed and sputtered the moment the surprising liquid reached her tongue. Sweet and burning, it spilled out of her mouth and dribbled down her chin. She wiped her chin on her sleeve, coughing and clearing her throat.

“Were you expecting wine?” He laughed at the vigorous shake of her head.

“What is this?” she asked feebly, holding the skin out like something offensive.

“It's just mead.” Varric rubbed his knuckle in the corner of his eye, smiling as he took the skin back. He popped the cork stopper back into the mouthpiece. “More of a beer person?”

She shook her head again, embarrassed. “I don’t really drink… stuff like that.”

“Not at all?” he asked skeptically.

“... Tequila?” she amended. “Vodka, but hardly ever.”

“Tuh-key-luh?” Varric tried.

She smiled a bit, dipping her chin down. “Tea’s a staple, I guess. My roommates and I have a whole cabinet full.”

Solas scoffed through a smile. “You prefer tea?” He leaned against the table beside them, his mouth quirking with distaste. “I find it too bitter, personally.”

Nicole shrugged. “To each their own.”

“Isn’t tea kinda mature for you,” Varric teased.

She snorted happily. “I’m too young for tea?”

“Well if you’re too young to appreciate beer…”

“To each their own,” Solas repeated.

Nicole laughed. “And just how old am I?” she asked them.

Varric hummed thoughtfully, tapped his chin dramatically, then said, “That baby face is screaming at me, Firefly.” He grinned up at Solas, “What do you say Chuckles, twenty-three?”

Nicole leaned towards him, smiling, the heaviness of her limbs nearly forgotten. “Look at these laugh lines and say that again.”

Varric shook his head. “Wrinkles don’t mean anything. Look at Chuckles- smooth as a baby’s bottom but we both know he’s ancient.”

Solas smiled, but his gaze was sharp. “The benefits of my heritage,” he explained.

_ No kidding _ . Nicole blinked, allowing the comment to roll past like water off a duck’s back. That was a whole nother can of worms she was not ready to open, so she moved on as if he’d never spoken. “Alright, yes, I’m younger than both of you, but I’m not a little kid.”

Solas’ smile softened. “You’re not ‘little’? That is a matter for debate.”

Nicole’s chest rumbled with laughter that wanted out. “I’m taller than Varric!” she whined.

Varric, his voice tight with his own restrained laughter, muttered, “Yeah, by like, four fingers’ width.”

Nicole bent over with a groan and put her head between her knees while Varric and Solas laughed aloud. Pressing her lips together to keep from smiling, she sat up and relented.

“I’m twenty-eight.”

With his shoulders still shaking, Varric rubbed his knuckle into the corner of his eye again and said, “Well shit, I’d never have guessed.”

“Younger people usually think I’m older than I am and older people tend to think I’m younger.” She smiled, “I guess I’m sort of age ambiguous.” 

“Can’t speak for the younger crowd, but for me it’s those cheeks.” Varric drew a C shape in the air with his index finger. “Makes me feel like a grand da- like I gotta pinch em and give you a copper.”

Further up the bridge, the intensity of shouting increased. Some of Varric’s jovialness died, his smile faltering.

Nicole’s stomach dropped. She took a deep breath. “Should we go see what’s happening?”

The three made their way through the camp, the stares from the nameless faces around them leaving Nicole feeling exposed. She looked away, forcing her face as neutral as possible. For better or worse, the raising voices distracted her from the scrutiny.

“'Order me'? You are a glorified clerk, a bureaucrat!”

“And you are a thug, but a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry!”

“We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor,” Leliana reminded Roderick, “as you well know.”

“Justinia is dead!” Roderick declared, his voice breaking in the middle.

Nicole's head shot up to stare at the man, his shoulders slumped as if from a great weight. A mantle of sorrow. Roderick looked as though he’d been hollowed out, hope and joy and all things worthwhile having been tossed out the window, leaving nothing but a heaping pile of death and grief for him to try to make sense of. Her heart clenched at the raw and ragged emotion in his voice as he tried to pull himself together-

“We must elect a replacement and obey her orders on the matter.”

“Chancellor Roderick,” she called cautiously.

“You!” he railed loudly.

“Chancellor, this is Ni-”

“I don't care who she is!” he said, jabbing an angry finger in her direction. “You did this!”

_ I can do this _ , she thought.  _ A Comm degree and five years of retail have prepared me for this moment _ . She took a careful breath and stood before the Chancellor, just on the cusp of too close, squaring her shoulders and turning her palms slightly outward. “Hello Chancellor,” she said patiently. “My name is Nicole and-” 

Roderick inhaled sharply as though he were about to speak, so she took a half-step forward, distracting him. He took a half-step back.

“And I’m a victim of the Conclave explosion just like you.” She pressed on, not wanting him to derail the momentum. “I understand that you’re concerned with protocol, you want to follow the proper channels, that’s commendable. After disasters like this, it can be really easy to step on people’s toes while trying to get things done.”

“Well I-” he started, his chin dipping slightly with his uncertainty.

“I also understand that you’re worried about further loss of life,” she added, gazing into his eyes. “That’s a sign of good leadership and I wanna thank you for remembering the things that should be important in times like these. Cause, I’m worried about loss of life too.”

“You are,” he said, not quite a question. He began to puff up like a rooster readying to crow, so she took another half-step, inching him back again.

“I am,” she repeated. “We both want to prevent any more unnecessary bloodshed and I think I might be able to help you do that.”

“ _ You _ want to help  _ me _ ?” Roderick demanded, taking his own step forward. “You’re the reason all of this happened in the first place!”

Nicole held her ground, fighting the urge to step back. “Who’s to blame isn’t the most important issue right now, especially since I’ll willingly surrender to the next Divine’s judgement. We both want to prevent more death, right? Would you agree that that’s our immediate goal, Chancellor?”

“Yes,” he admitted with a frustrated growl. He stepped back.

“Good. As far as I can tell, the biggest obstacle to our goal is the giant hole in the sky and the demons it keeps throwing at us. Are we still on the same page?”

Roderick stepped back again. “You’ve completely oversimplified the problem-”

“Maybe I did,” she said and took another half-step forward, pushing Roderick without touching him. “But it’s like math, problem solving is usually easier when you break it down in simplest form.” Nicole held her marked hand palm up between them. “I honestly don’t know how I got this, but I do know I can use it to fix the problem. Will you help me?”

Frowning, Roderick looked away then asked quietly, “How could you possibly fix this? You won't survive long enough to reach the temple, even with all the soldiers.”

“But if we don't try,” she explained, “it'll spread. If we retreat now, we save our soldiers, but regular people will get hurt. They’ll die.”

“If we can get Nicole to the Temple,” Cassandra cut in, “we _ can _ end this.”

“We have options,” Leliana supplied. “Charging with the soldiers might be the fastest route, but it is not the safest.” She pointed up the mountain, “Our forces can charge as a distraction while we go through the mountain.”

Cassandra shook her head, “We lost contact with an entire squad on that path. It is too risky.”

“Listen to me,” Roderick piped in, looking at Nicole,  _ really _ looking at her, “Too many lives have already been lost. I… I cannot in good conscience send a child to her death.”

Nicole nearly groaned. She was done with being dismissed as too young. Maybe she was a blubbering mess, but this was her life on the line. She bristled up to speak, but before she could even form the first syllable the Breach surged with green energy, pulsing light blinding white. Nicole had a second to draw in a tiny breath before the Anchor echoed the surge, pounding to the beat of her heart, a staccato rhythm of scorching pain. She choked on a scream, the sound catching in her throat and slipping past her lips as a strangled gasp. Nicole gripped her wrist, her legs all but collapsing beneath her as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Time lost all meaning until the pain finally faded and Nicole became aware of the hands holding her up on her weakened legs. Breathing carefully, she lifted her chin and came face to face with Roderick, brow furrowed and skin ashen. His hands slipped away from her and he stepped back, leaving Cassandra to hold her upright until the trembling of her legs subsided.

From the other side of the table, Solas stated clearly, “If we do nothing, she will die regardless.”

Roderick turned away and paced. “Very well,” he conceded. “I shall... pray for your success.” He froze and turned a cold stare upon Cassandra, “If this goes wrong, if- if the girl is harmed before we can investigate her involvement?” Roderick leaned over the table, jaw clenching and unclenching as he stared down at the map. “Ah-on your head be the consequences, Seeker.”

Cassandra pulled Nicole back, nodding briefly at the Chancellor before guiding her away from the table and Roderick. “How should we proceed?”

“You're asking her what she thinks?” Leliana voice wondered behind them. “Her speech was compelling enough, but-”

“She has the mark,” Solas stated.

“And she is the one we must keep alive. Since we cannot agree on our own...” Cassandra pushed Nicole to sit on another crate and knelt before her. She blinked with surprise, “Where is your sword?”

“Oh,” Nicole looked around her, down at her hands, then back at Cassandra. “I guess I dropped it.”

The Seeker sighed. “Leliana,” she said over her shoulder, “would you look to see if there is any equipment that might suit her, please?”

Leliana gave Nicole a critical look. She nodded. “I'll see what we have.”

As the Spymaster went back to the table of equipment, Solas stepped up beside Cassandra as she took Nicole's right hand and gave it a squeeze.

“What you said to Roderick,” she said, “the way you handled him-”

“It was damned impressive,” Varric interrupted with a grin. “Negotiating with demons, hmm?”

Nicole’s face burned. “I just caught him off guard, that’s all.”

Solas smirked, “He underestimated you and you used that to your advantage.” 

“No, I-”

“Regardless,” Cassandra cut in, “it got us what we needed. Now, perhaps you could tell us which path to the temple is best.”

Nicole closed her eyes, trying to cool her burning cheeks; after the Breach flare, the sudden rush of blood was making her dizzy. “Charge with the soldiers,” she said. “We'll lose the scouts, but there's too many demons.” She took a shaky breath. “If I could fight-”

Cassandra shushed her. She gave her hand one more squeeze then released it, standing up with a sigh. “I will help look for some appropriate armor for you.” She turned towards Solas and opened her mouth to speak, but he interrupted her.

“I will watch over her, as before.”

Cassandra nodded and left to join Leliana.

Solas moved to stand beside her as Varric watched them from the corner of his eye. 

“I suspect Seeker Cassandra did not, in fact, tell you about Varric and myself. Am I correct?”

Varric and Nicole looked up at the apostate. Solas offered a cautious smile.

Nicole looked down at her hands, unable to meet the eyes of either man. She nodded silently, her fingers twisting in the fur fringes of her coat and her stomach roiling.

“Are you going to... expand on any of this?” Varric asked.

She didn’t look up. “Can I explain after I close the Breach?”

A moment stretched on where all was quiet but the sounds of the soldiers’ activities around them.

Eventually Solas said, “That was quite a spectacle, what you did to the rift.”

She looked up at him then down at her marked hand. “I didn't know I could do that.”

“Before, you said  _ yet _ . Did you know you might eventually be capable of such a feat?”

“Yes,” she said, her eyes boring a hole into her hand.

Solas considered this.

“You can tell us all about it later,” Varric said, giving Solas a hard stare. “Let's go see if the Seeker’s found you anything.” He offered a hand to Nicole.

“Alright,” she said, unsure. Nicole took Varric's hand and hauled herself to her feet. She looked back at Solas, who nodded.

“Later,” he agreed, then gestured with his staff, motioning Nicole and Varric ahead of him.

Cassandra and Leliana were fussing amongst themselves. Both women turned as Nicole and the others drew close.

“Come,” the Seeker said, “we wish to be sure the armor will not hinder your movement.” She gestured for Nicole to step forward and held out her hand. “Give me your coat.”

Nicole did as she was told, removing her coat and handing it over to the Seeker with a little shiver.

Leliana held up a leather chest piece. “Iron will be too heavy for her. Here, try this one.”

Cassandra gripped Nicole's shoulder, her eyes trained on Leliana. “I do not believe a breastplate will strain her- leather is not substantial enough to withstand a direct strike.” A rebuttal seemed ready to tumble from Leliana's lips, but the Seeker added pointedly, “Nicole is not fast or skilled enough to avoid being struck.”

Nicole sighed resignedly. Cassandra wasn't wrong but the words still stung.

Leliana turned back to the equipment and reorganized bits of armor. “This, then,” she gestured for Cassandra to see. “Leather and padded clothes should be light enough that she can move, and the breastplate will protect her from most mortal blows.”

The Seeker nodded her approval, “Yes, this will have to do. Nicole-”

Nicole stepped forward, surprised when the two Hands swiftly began to pull the armor in place around her. “Uhm, thank you,” Nicole said awkwardly.

Leliana smiled, “You are untrained, no? Do you know how to put it on properly?”

“No,” Nicole answered, gasping slightly as Cassandra tightened the straps of the breastplate as far as she could.

“Enough,” the Seeker sighed, “it's as good as we'll get from a set made for someone else.”

“Okay,” Nicole said while the two women took a step back. “Do I... need another sword?”

“So you can lose it again? No.” Cassandra lifted a round shield, the proportions reminding Nicole of a certain Captain. “A Marcher Targe will provide extra protection until someone comes to your aid.” The Seeker began to strap the shield in place. “It's maybe a little too large, but simple enough that you will not be punished for your lack of technique.”

“Aside from potentially breaking her arm,” Leliana added, mildly dissatisfied.

Swallowing down a wave of panic, Nicole asked, “Could you strap it to my right arm instead?”

“Don't be ridiculous, that's for-”

“The sword I won't have.” Nicole pulled her left arm free from the loosening straps and offered her right instead. “I'm right handed, so blocking will be a little easier.” She looked down at the green light emanating from her palm. “And there's this.”

“Fair enough,” Cassandra conceded sharply. She finished then turned to Leliana. “We will go ahead and join Cullen's forces. Bring everyone left in the valley, everyone.”

Leliana gave a terse nod then left.

Cassandra released Nicole, “We must hurry. We have no way of knowing how much time remains.”

 

֍֍֍

 

The trek up the mountain was long and left Nicole feeling lightheaded, if not from the altitude then surely from the clear evidence of recent battles. Field hospitals peppered the trail all along their journey, characterized by the rows of freshly dead and the cries of pain from those close to joining them. Nicole's tongue felt thick in her mouth and she struggled to breath, anxiety and panic ebbing like the tides off the Storm Coast- if she survived this, her thoughts reminded her, then she would actually see those tides. Several times she'd had to run past a group of tents, even crouching down in the snow once to retch and gasp after seeing a group of violently mangled bodies.

“Have you never seen the dead?” Solas asked her curiously.

“Not like that,” she gasped between gulps of air, leaning weakly against the edge of her shield. Varric helped her up. “Not like that,” she repeated, ghost-like. She teetered along, feeling as though her thoughts had floated up like a balloon, tethered to her body and trailing along behind it. She didn't see her three companions share a look.

From that point on, with her mind swathed in a gauze like haze, the march to the summit passed quickly. Nicole only began to return to herself when the sound of battle and demonic screeching grew; they were approaching the last rift between them and the Breach.

The party passed burning rubble and an abandoned wagon, entering the final encampment. Green energy slammed into the ground, launching a man into the air and causing Nicole to flinch violently.

“Be wary,” Solas gripped her shoulder, “We're near another Fade rift.”

Varric pulled Bianca into his arms and Cassandra drew her sword, telling them, “Guard her. I will draw the demons away.”

They marched grimly on, reaching a ledge overlooking the ruined courtyard where a dozen soldiers fought against the never-ending onslaught of demons tumbling from the rift. On impulse, Nicole thrust her hand into the air, but nothing happened.

“Worth a shot, Firefly,” Varric said then launched himself from the ledge.

Solas and Cassandra followed quickly.

Nicole crouched, waiting for the Seeker to turn back, but a soldier tumbled to the ground ahead of them, at the mercy of a shade, and Cassandra charged to his defense.

“How many rifts are there?” Varric demanded incredulously as he shot at the shade from his place near the ledge.

Solas called to Nicole. “We must seal it if we are to get past!”

She swallowed thickly, feeling nauseous and lightheaded again. _ Like jumping off the lockers back in high school _ . She hopped down, doing her best to imitate a cat, landing well, but the impact sent a jolt up her left leg, stabbing sharply through her old injury. She grimaced, biting back a yelp.

Solas and Varric turned to her, concerned, but she shouted, “Come on,” trying to push past the pain and fear, “they need our help!”

They worked their way to the edge of the fray. Solas cast a barrier on the three of them before moving to support a soldier with offensive spells. The scene didn't slow down like in movies or books, everything was frenzied chaos and all Nicole could do was hold her shield up and grip the back of Varric's leather duster. After every few steps they took, Nicole stuck her arm up into the air. Nothing happened. Finally, an opening within the fighting seemed to leave a path to the rift open; after an instance of hesitation, Nicole released her grip on Varric and bolted.

“Nicole!” she heard the rogue call after her, but she only ran faster.

Nearly under the rift, she thrust her hand toward it, immediately feeling the pull as a stream of light connected the portal to her hand. Nicole stood determined, bracing her body against the pull of the rift, wisps zooming past her as the Fade energy was drawn in. Feeling somehow close to sealing the tear, she did not see the shade tumbling towards the rift. It swung past her, knocking roughly into the back of her legs, causing them to buckle. Her left knee jolted out, dislocated, then back into place in the briefest of eternities while razor sharp bolts of ice coursed through her nerves. Nicole could feel that the stream of light had disappeared, could tell that the rift was still open as that moment of slow motion she expected at the start of the battle stretched the long seconds it took for her to fall to the ground.

Nicole suddenly found herself lying in the dirt, the fall half forgotten, her shield trapped beneath her and the sounds of battle muffled by the same mental fog she’d experienced earlier. Mindlessly, she sat up and looked about, trying to regain her focus as her eyes drifted over the courtyard. The shades and wisps were gone; terror demons, long-limbed with gaping mouths, assaulted her party and the soldiers in their place. She saw Cassandra helping Varric stand, further away she spied the back of a man with a great fur ruffle around his shoulders, and when she turned the other way, she found that Solas was running towards her, his mouth flapping out words she couldn’t hear. Nicole looked over her shoulder and stared up at a towering demon pulling it's spindly hand back to strike her.

_ I should do something _ , she thought numbly. The demon moved as if through water, bearing down on her. She rolled, feeling like she were swimming through pudding as she pulled her shield out from under her and lifted it up between the demon and her head.

Claws raked across the plated boss of her targe and the haze lifted. Nicole's senses were assaulted by the chaos around her while the terror demon reared back to strike again. With a stunned sort of desperation, Nicole swung her shield forward as hard as she could, striking the demon's legs, somehow knocking them out from under it. She rolled just out of reach and struggled to her feet, hobbling towards Solas as quickly as her leg would allow. He threw a barrier around them both and she turned towards the rift, violently reaching towards it and willing it to close.

The mark on her hand crackled to life forcefully, as if responding to her ferocity. The glowing vortex reversed and dragged the demons into it's depths, shrieking and clawing the ground. Nicole tightened her grip on her connection to the rift, feeling the link shatter as her hand closed into a fist and the rift sealed and vanished.

Solas gripped her shoulder as she stumbled back from the force of it. “Sealed, as before. You are becoming quite proficient at this.”

Nicole looked up at Solas, panting but smiling shyly at the pleased look he shared with her.

“Let's hope it works on the big one,” Varric said, winded. He leaned on Cassandra as they all drew together.

“Are you okay?” Nicole asked, frowning her worry.

“I'm fine, Firefly, just a scratch.”

“More importantly, are _ you _ all right?” Solas asked as he looked down at her.

“I think it's getting a little easier to close these little ones,” she told him, feeling less shaken than the last time.

He frowned. “I meant when the demon hit you. I saw you fall.”

“It was just a bump,” Nicole shook her head. “I have- my legs were already all messed up. I’ll be alright.”

“You'll be able to walk?” asked Cassandra.

Nicole nodded.

“Lady Cassandra, you managed to close the rift? Well done.”

They all turned to face Cullen and Nicole sucked in a breath. The Commander was worn, his face gaunt and his skin paper thin. The hollows that were his eyes were dark like bruises and his lips were dry and cracked.

“Do not congratulate me, Commander,” Cassandra began, turning more fully towards the ex-templar. “This is Nicole. Closing the rift was her doing.”

Cullen scowled, emphasizing the deep lines on his forehead. “Is it? I hope they're right about you. We've lost a lot of people getting you here.”

Nicole shrunk under his scrutiny. “I hope they're right too,” she said, her voice small.

“We'll see soon enough, won't we?” he replied harshly. Cullen turned his focus on Cassandra. “The way to the temple should be clear. Leliana will try to meet you there.”

The Seeker nodded, “Then we'd best move quickly. Give us time, Commander.”

He took a step back, looking down at Nicole, as if assessing her and finding her completely lacking. “Maker watch over you- for all our sakes.” He turned and ran to help a limping soldier.

“Ass,” Varric muttered at his retreating back.

Nicole turned away and took an experimental step, gasping at the tenderness in her left knee. “He's just trying to do his job,” she said.

Varric took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “So are you.”

She thanked him, her throat tight.

The remaining hike to the temple was mostly silent. Varric asked Solas about explosions and holes in the Fade. When snow became scarce, Nicole assumed they were getting close. Her insides tightened at the thought of facing a pride demon, but what else could she do?

“The Temple of Sacred Ashes,” Solas said solemnly.

Heart pounding, Nicole looked ahead, her gaze balking away from the distant shadows cast by flaming corpses.

“What's left of it,” added Varric, almost angrily.

She said nothing, accepting help from Cassandra when they reached a high ledge. She remained silent as the distant shadows drew nearer and nearer. The smell of burning bodies reached her nose for the first time and she gagged, bending over then crumbling to her knees as she actually lost the contents of her stomach this time.

Someone squeezed her shoulder, she wasn’t sure who, and when she stumbled to her feet, a handkerchief was pressed into her hand. Nicole rubbed the square of cloth over her cheeks and across her eyes before she wiped her mouth.

“That is where you walked out of the Fade and our soldiers found you.” Cassandra pointed ahead of them. “They say a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was.” She looked at Nicole mournfully, “I don't suppose you could tell us?”

Nicole didn’t answer. The game wasn't entirely clear about the Divine Spirit, and though she remembered all the times she played, Nicole couldn't actually remember how _ she _ got the mark, just like the real Herald. Even if she could remember, she wasn’t entirely sure she could open her mouth and speak coherent words.  _ So many bodies. _

“Perhaps later, once this is over,” Cassandra said.

They wandered on, across the expanse of debris. Nicole stared straight ahead, refusing to look away from the archway that would lead them to the Breach. She felt herself trip over something, a shape encased in ash, but she caught herself and did not look back to see what it was. A hand grabbed her shoulder, holding tight even when she flinched away.

“Nicole,” Solas said sternly, anchoring her back in the moment. “This is clearly having a profound effect on you, but you must overcome it. You cannot afford to lose focus.”

She pulled angrily from his grip. She wanted to scream.  _  HOW COULD YOU! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS! _ Aloud she heard someone with her voice say, “How could anyone do this?”

“We may never know,” Solas replied.

She wanted to be sick again, as if the act would purge her of her disgust. She must have stopped walking, because Solas and Varric moved ahead, through the archway. Cassandra stopped beside her and placed a light hand on her shoulder.

“Come,” she said, sounding much the way Nicole felt.

They moved through the ruined hallway and Varric whistled lowly.

“However or whoever, they probably didn't live to tell the tale.” He tilted his head back and stared at the sky. “The Breach is a long way up.”

“You're here. Thank the Maker.”

They all turned to find Leliana and her people following after them.

“Leliana,” Cassandra commanded, “have your men take up positions around the temple.” Leliana nodded, motioning her men to obey as Cassandra turned towards Nicole. She reached for her, taking her by the elbow. “Solas is correct, you must remain focused. This is your chance to end this. Are you ready?”

Nicole took a cautious breath, trying to center herself. “As ready as I'll ever be,” she said, her voice distant even to her own ears.

Cassandra paused a moment, her grip on Nicole gentling. “What is it?” she asked, voice low.

Nicole closed her eyes tightly for a moment and took another calculated breath. “I have to open and reseal the little rift.”

“What,” Varric asked, “we can't just stand here? Build elaborate scaffolding so you can reach the big one?”

“This rift was the first, and it is the key,” Solas replied, motioning at the rift waiting for them in the crater. “Seal it, and perhaps we seal the Breach.”

“Let's find a way down,” the Seeker released Nicole, patting her shoulder as she started down what was left of the path. “And be careful,”  she said over her shoulder.

They descended. Nicole didn't know what to expect from the echoes of Corypheus- would she stumble through the doors and interrupt the ritual? When and where had she entered into Thedas? She assumed she wouldn’t get any definitive answers today, but there were no disembodied voices. They trekked down into the crater. They discovered the red lyrium. They reached the epicenter.

“Now is the hour of our victory,” Corypheus’ voice finally echoed. His shadowy silhouette loomed over them. “Keep the sacrifice still.”

“Somebody help me!”

The phantom door burst open. “What’s going on here?” shouted an elven woman with elaborate vallaslin and a quiver and bow strapped to her back.

Nicole choked on nothing. She stood very still, waiting for her own echo to run in after Lavellan. Corypheus demanded Lavellan’s life. There were no deviations, no other shadows. The scene faded to nothing

“Who was that?” Cassandra asked, wheeling around to face Nicole. “Most Holy called out to her, but where were you? Was this vision true? What are we seeing?”

“Echoes of what happened here,” Solas stared up at the rift, “The Fade bleeds into this place.”

Varric peered at Nicole. “Hey,” he said gently, “what's wrong?”

She teetered on her feet. “This isn't... She was Dalish, from Clan Lavellan... I don't-” A tear rolled down Nicole's cheek as she struggled to understand. “This isn’t what I was- I don't know what happened!” She bit her lip savagely, trying to hold everything in, but it floundered loose and flowed out of her. “I don't know how I got the mark,” she cried, quickly covering her face with her hand and lifting the shield up to hide behind it. “What am I doing here?!”

A large, sympathetic hand settled on her shoulder and another hand pulled the shield away from her face.

“Easy Seeker,” warned Varric.

Cassandra ignored him and stepped in front of Nicole. “You are here to save us all. Now breathe,” she said and demonstrated, taking a long sharp breath through her nose and letting it out slowly through her mouth. “I am not without sympathy, but now is not the time for this. You will calm down, you will close the Breach, and when that is done and over, you may sit and cry as much as you like. But not before.” Cassandra dipped her head to catch Nicole's gaze. “Do you understand?”

Nicole took several shaky breaths before she nodded, her lips wobbling slightly as she answered, “Yes.” She took a few more breaths. In. Out. In. Out, the last one the slowest. Her entire body eased into a neutral stance. “I'm okay,” she said, nearly steady.

“This rift is not sealed, but it is closed... albeit temporarily.”

They turned to look at Solas, who behaved as though nothing had happened.

“I believe that with the mark, the rift can be opened, and then sealed properly and safely.” He tapped the end of his staff against the rubble beneath their feet, “However, opening the rift will likely attract attention from the other side.”

“A pride demon,” Nicole told Cassandra, her voice low and raw.

Cassandra squared her shoulders, her eyes narrowing with determination. She turned to the soldiers, “That means demons, stand ready!”

The Inquisition forces moved into place around the ruins, swords drawn and bows ready. The party stepped back, readying their own weapons as Nicole stepped towards the rift. She took a deep breath.

_What was that thing from Public Speaking? The Litany?_ She wondered as she lifted her shield arm, swinging it for a moment to get a better feel for it's weight. _I must not fear?_ she tried to recite, but her mind drew a blank. She frowned. _Watch, tomorrow I’ll wake up and be able to say it forwards and backwards without any problems._ At least it was giving her something else to think about. She thrust her hand forcefully into the air, the scene playing out in her head as she gasped at the jerking sensation that rippled from her toes to her fingertips. _Litany Against Fear_ , she remembered then. _I can’t even remember the professor’s name. How sad is that?_ The stream of light intensified, seeming to flail back and forth, an unseen force pushing back on Nicole so that she had to brace against it. The rift tore open and her arm recoiled from the broken connection. A light rocketed out of the open rift, taking it's shape- a massive mountain, sharp and jagged plates growing from it’s body like some grotesque bipedal rhinoceros. It landed in a crouch, the earth trembling beneath it’s feet as it lifted it’s head and leveled it’s multi-eyed stare on Nicole. It roared.

If ever she had imagined what it might be like, that ancient terror of facing off against one’s truest nightmares, it did not compare to the raw horror she felt now.

“Now!” shouted the Seeker, her intensity as fierce as the demon's.

Arrows fired, some piercing the skin between the beast's plate-like growths while Nicole stood stock still, too stunned to move. The swordsmen charged and she stumbled back, looking up at the creature’s beady, black eyes. It swung its arm, thick as a tree trunk and covered in sheets of craggy exoskeleton, then lightning shot out along an invisible whip, striking two soldiers who hadn't been quick enough to dodge.

Their screams rattled Nicole, the ghost of another scream repeating in her mind. Repeating, repeating, repeating. She couldn’t move. Her shield lowered as she stared and the memory of her own screaming echoed and echoed and echoed.

A hand grabbed her and wrenched her backwards. “Watch out!” Varric shouted then released her; she tripped over herself, falling back against the stone.

“I'm here,” she said aloud, but her voice sounded miles away to her own ears. “Right now. Now, now...” An image flashed through her mind, asphalt and concrete, a world turned sideways, enormous tires creeping back and back and back, playing over and over and over. Phantom sensations tingled against her skin, the smack of flesh against the road followed by an excruciatingly slow crush.

“Stop-” she bit out. The images persisted. “Stop-” she hissed.

Wide eyed, she frantically tried to focus on the cold seeping through the seat of her pants, her breathing coming ever faster. She shook her head, as if she could shake the memories back into submission.

“STOP.”

Nicole jumped to her feet, still struggling to find the present moment. A glowing green light anchored her in limbo and she threw her arm into the air, frustrated and scared. The invisible force surrounding the rift grappled against her as she grasped at the tear, her fingers tightening over the energies. The vibrant green light chased away the crushing past and she became aware of the world around her: the scrape of stone beneath her feet as she struggled for purchase, the clanging metal of swords striking at the Pride demon that groaned and heaved against the pull of the rift, the acrid smell of ash and rot, and the copper tang of blood in her mouth. Nicole saw the Pride demon in a distant, echoing sort of manner, there and not there. The demon stumbled and fought against the vacuum that was drawing it in. She grit her teeth and doubled her efforts, pulling against the force with everything she had.

She heard herself scream, different from the echos in her mind, a monstrous thing with fangs and claws and rage. The sound tore into the rift like a physical barrage and it shuddered mightily, at last sucking up the demon and slamming shut just as Nicole's hand closed into a tight grip. The light dimmed and distantly Nicole could hear cheering. She felt something bump the front of her knees and then her chest, but she saw only the world narrowing to a single point of light before she was engulfed in total darkness. She wasn't afraid.

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday to me. As you might have imagined, life delayed the update. I can't say when I'll post the next part because I'm waiting to hear back on a job opportunity, but I assure you that I am in fact working on it. I do appreciate constructive feedback.


	3. Dreams and Stories, part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole wakes up in Haven and must come to terms with her situation, as well as finding a way to tell her companions.
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter hasn't been beta read- I would appreciate it if mistakes were pointed out to me.

.Dreams and Stories, part 1.

 

The room was familiar, the details obscured yet clear at the same time. She was herself, watching with unblinking eyes from her place on the floor, but she was also watching from above like a spectral spectator. She was waiting. Feeling and unfeeling, seeing and unseeing, there and not there.

Nicole woke with a start, sitting up but still grasped in the dream’s embrace. The dream, the memory- she was raw and empty and felt everything and nothing at the same time. She lifted her eyes from the blanket she had been staring at and met the gaze of the Commander. Another dream then.

“Hello Cullen,” she said to the dream man, her voice sleep rough. He seemed stuck where he stood, halfway between the door and her bed, the whites of his eyes showing like a startled animal. Her throat was so dry. Nicole looked around for her water bottle. When she couldn’t find it, she looked up at the frozen man. “My mouth tastes gross,” she said, “Is there water?”

All of the tension seemed to drain out of him at her question. Cullen’s shoulders slumped and he huffed a breath she thought might be a laugh. He came towards her, the sound of his boots on the stone loud in the silence. His armor creaked as he moved, the tiny squeak of leather and the whisper of metal plate shifting.

Nicole frowned, the blank heavy feeling slowly fading away. There was a candle in the room, flickering warm orange light against the wall. The room was warm- how was a room built of stone _warm_? She looked around. Oh, this was the room in the chantry, with the three beds. She spotted the heat source, a crude brazier, low to the ground near the foot of her bed.

“Here,” said Cullen, his voice just the same, just the same as everyone’s voices. He looked different, she noticed again, even more than she’d thought before, now that he was closer and they weren’t surrounded by dead bodies. His hair was darker, the curls combed back away from his face. His scar was more pronounced, longer and deeper, revealing just a hint of tooth. He looked so tired already, eyes sunk and dark. He cleared his throat and Nicole blinked.

In his hand, Cullen held an earthenware cup.

Nicole took it. “Thank you.” She sipped. Not a dream. _This really_ isn’t _a dream_. The cup slipped from her hand at the realization and it was the sudden exclamation beside her that jarred her from her thoughts, not the cold water seeping through the blanket.

“Maker’s breath,” Cullen hissed, taking the cup and replacing it with a square of cloth. He quickly knelt beside the bed, armour creaking. “What happened, are you hurt?”

Nicole shook her head. “No,” she croaked. “I’m sorry.”

Cullen sighed. “It’s, it’s alright I suppose. Only water, no harm in it.” He scowled, searching her face. “Are you alright?” he asked.

It was like opening a levy, the flood water going from a trickle to a rush of water. Her voice shook, “Please don’t ask me that right now.” The danger was over for the moment, but the reality of her situation was crashing down like a relentless wave. Her mind was blank, nothing but that screeching white noise that accompanies prolonged silence.

“Should I get someone?” he asked, his voice so distant.

Everything was gone. Her entire life. Nicole shook her head again absently. She heard herself say, “Please just talk to me, just a bit. I-I need to be present.” She gripped the blanket, her fingers pinching and stroking the weave of the fabric.

“Well, uh... I came to check on you. That is, Lady Cassandra wanted to do it, but she’s been running herself ragged trying to maintain… Your name is ‘Nicole’?”

Nicole looked up from the blanket, in the midst of a breathing exercise. The air was heavy with the scent of burning charcoal and a mix of smells that were familiar but impossible to identify individually. She nodded.

“It’s a very pretty name,” he said deliberately. “Were you named for someone?”

She shook her head. “Nicholas,” her voice like dry leaves, “my parents were expecting a boy and I was…” She stopped, a thought clicking in place. “I was named after Saint Nicholas.”

“Who’s that?” Cullen prompted.

Nicole shrugged. “A holy man, I guess. We celebrate a gift-giving holiday in his honour.” She didn’t feel like getting into any of the particulars. “I was born just before the holiday, so… ‘Nicole’.” She met the man’s gaze. “Were you named after someone?”

Cullen frowned, his eyes shifting to the side. “Well, my middle name came from my grandfather. He died just before I was born, so I never knew him.”

“I’m sorry,” she said automatically.

Cullen waved his hand absently. “It’s not terribly painful to remember someone you never met.” Then he asked, “How do you feel?”

Nicole started. The suffocating feel of panic had faded away and she hadn’t even noticed. She smiled with relief, gaze dropping to her lap. “Thank you,” she said with feeling.

“Consider it an apology for my... harsh introduction,” he said.

It was Nicole’s turn to wave absently. “No worries. I didn’t take it personally.”

Cullen nodded then stood with a soft groan. “It is very late. You should try to sleep.”

She tossed aside the damp rag and settled into her blankets. “What’s going to happen to me?” she couldn’t help asking.

The Commander appeared thoughtful. “I can’t say,” he admitted. “I _can_ say, however, that it’s unlikely we will be shackling you and sending you to Val Royoux in the immediate future.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “I’m sorry if that isn’t much of a comfort.”

Nicole laid back against the pillows. “It helps,” she told him.

He nodded. “I need to be getting back.”

“Thank you,” she said as he turned for the door.

Cullen stopped and nodded at her. “You’re welcome.” He left.

She turned onto her side, watching the flickering light dance and leap against the wall. She was in a world that seemed to be near identical to a game she’d played in her own world. It just seemed too impossible. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Some time later, Nicole rolled over in a warm cocoon of blankets. She sighed, eyes creeping open reluctantly.

Varric Tethras sat lounging at the foot of the nearest bed. He was barefoot and reading silently.

Nicole eased into a sitting position, her shoulders stiff and her body aching.

“Hey,” Varric said, his voice low and soothing. He put a bit of paper in the book to mark his spot, then he got down from his perch and pulled himself onto the edge of Nicole's bed.

She stared at the glasses perched on his nose, the lenses small circles.

“How long have I been asleep?” she asked his glasses.

“Just over a day. It's early.” Varric tilted his head to look at her.

Nicole nodded.

“How're you feeling?” he asked her.

“Like a truck ran me o-” she faltered then amended, “I feel like I was trampled by a bronto.”

Varric just nodded. He turned then offered her a mug. “It's cider.”

She held it between both hands, staring into the golden liquid. “Cullen was here.”

“Did all that armour of his wake you up?” he asked, amusement clear in his tone.

She shook her head. “Bad dream.”

“Nightmare?”

Nicole took a sip of her cider. It was warm and spicy. She smacked her lips. “A memory,” she said. “What’d I missed?”  

Varric looked as though he wanted to ask her more, but he didn’t press. “The Seeker's frothing rage mostly.” He looked back towards his bed, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Everyone's been dodging left and right trying to stay out of her way- you're lucky you were out cold for most of it.” He turned back to Nicole, “When she's not harassing the healers for updates on you, she's running around trying to get Haven back in order.” He sighed, “For days we'd been staring at the Breach watching demons and Maker-knows-what fall out of it. I think trying to stay on Cassandra's good side has weirdly lifted people's spirits.”

Nicole nodded and took another drink of her cider.

“That and your stunt at the temple,” he continued. “You've gone from the most wanted criminal in Thedas to having an army of the faithful.” Varric smiled wearily. “Most people would have spread that out over more than one day.”

Nicole tried to smile. “I'm just… glad I could help.” She leaned her aching body back against the headboard, taking a moment to hold her mug out to Varric.

He took it and set it and his glasses aside.

A gnawing feeling kept Nicole tense even as she tried to relax into the pillows. She nudged Varric lightly with the tips of her fingers. “How'd we do against the pride demon? It's kind of patchy for me.”

“What do you remember?”

Nicole thought back then listed each moment, counting on her fingers. “You joked about scaffolding. Leliana got there. We found red lyrium. Lady Lavellan tried to save the Divine.” She dropped her hands to examine one of the pelts on her lap, feeling irrationally embarrassed. “I uh, freaked out a little before I opened the rift. I think I fell down at some point.”

Varric tilted his head back and scratched his chin. “Well,” he said, “for starters, there were a bunch of little demons too, Shades I think.”

Nicole frowned, her stomach dropping. She’d forgotten to warn them about that.

“It’s okay,” he assured her, gently shaking her shoulder. “We’re all okay. We managed.” He smiled a bit self-deprecatingly, “Of course the extra demons left us kind of distracted, so when you started screaming, everyone was pretty caught off guard.” He raised his eyebrows at the memory.

Nicole looked down at her lap. “Screaming?” she asked weakly.

“You got up,” he told her, “and did something with that mark on your hand- forced all the demons back into the Fade, even the big one. But yeah, you were screaming until the rift closed.”

“Oh.”

Varric chuckled, a short rumbling that rose up from within his barrel chest. It so reminded her of her father, for a moment it made Nicole want to press her ear to his chest like when she was a kid.

Her father- he wouldn’t know what had happened to her. She didn’t know what had happened to her, but he would go insane with worry and fear over her disappearance. Nicole’s eyes grew glassy. _Oh god, Dad._

“Hey,” Varric tried to soothe her, awkwardly patting her shoulder, “you didn’t scream, okay? It was more like a roar, a uh, a battlecry.”

Nicole sniffed, _Keep it together_. She covered her eyes, squeezing them shut.“It’s not that. It’s my dad,” she said, her throat tightening unbearably, “my father. He’ll never know what happened to me. I’ll just be gone.”

Her friends, her family- And oh! Her student loans! With her gone, the debt would fall to her family. Maybe after she was declared legally dead the government would forgive the debt? _Ooooh, they’ll all be so worried and upset._ Nicole moaned miserably and curled forward, burying her fingers in her hair.

“Why are you worried about him not knowing, just write a letter. Hell, you could probably convince Nightingale to bring him here.”

“I can’t,” she said, throat tight. “Oh god, I’ll never be able to tell them.”

“Why?!” Varric demanded, sounding incredulous.

Nicole took a steadying breath, her insides churning. “My family, my father, they aren’t in Thedas. I think I… came here through the Fade somehow.”

His eyebrows steadily climbed higher and higher.

“I know it sounds insane,” she said on another deep breath. “Especially because, somehow, there are people in my world who can _see_ Thedas.” Nicole sat back up, her eyes avoiding Varric. “Those people made a, uh, story out of what they saw. I thought it was made-up, but... but somehow I'm here and this is real.” She remembered then what she'd said to Solas and repeated it with fearful wonder- “You're real.”

Varric cleared his throat, his shoulders stiff. He did it two more times before he asked, “Could you elaborate a little?”

Nicole frowned. “I think I somehow came through the Fade, but I don't actually-”

“I mean, about all of this being a story. And I'm, uh, I'm made up?”

He looked incredibly pale, Nicole noticed with concern. “In my world, all of this is...” She looked around the room, trying to think of a comparison. “It's like a book, but there's an element of control. I mean, you can control certain aspects of the story.” She let go of her blankets, gesturing slightly as she tried to explain. “You watch the story through a sort of… magic window.” She bite her lip, “Well, not magic, but I don’t know how else to explain it.” She waved her hand, brushing the thought aside. “One story is about the Hero of Ferelden, and there’s another about Hawke.” She looked at Varric, his silence unnerving. She couldn't read him. “I thought... it was just a story, but maybe the writers were seeing Thedas somehow? Through the Fade, maybe?”

There was no answer.

Nicole turned more fully towards Varric. “It all sounds crazy, right?”

Snapping out of his stillness, Varric frowned and rubbed his forehead, “I'd be lying if I said no. What sort of things could you control?”

“Control might be the wrong word for it,” she said hastily. “The story could split at different key points and lead to different endings, and I could go back and see both if I wanted.”

Varric looked at her expectantly.

She thought quietly for a moment, thinking of the second game. She'd only played it once, so she didn't know it as well as Origins and Inquisition. “I could... when, when you and Hawke found the red lyrium shard in Bartrand's manor, I could decide if Hawke let you keep it or pressured you to destroy it.”

Varric visibly blanched and slid off the bed, putting space between them.

“I'm sorry,” Nicole said automatically, the knot in her stomach tripling in size. “I know how it sounds. I-” Reality sunk in again and she felt her eyes tearing up again. “It's upsetting for me too.”  She struggled to speak, reluctant to admit the next thought even to herself, “If this is real, if it isn't some-” she gasped, “concussion induced hallucination-” she felt lightheaded, “then I'm never going to- to see my family-” her vision was beginning to go fuzzy around the edges.

Varric suddenly gripped her shoulder. “Breathe out.” His grip tightened. “Slow down, Nicole. Breathe.”

“Sorry-” she sucked in air, her lungs burning. “Sorry.” She forced herself to exhale long and slow, wrangling her body back under control. The panic ebbed away to dull anxiety. “I'm sorry.”

“It's,” he sighed, dragging his hand down his face. “It's alright.”

Nicole wiped her eyes on the edge of a quilt. “I'll try to... to not do that. I know you don't like to see humans cry.”

He blinked with surprise before chuckling almost desperately. He told her, voice tired, “It's all right. All things considered, I think you're allowed.”

“Thank you,” she said earnestly.

Varric pushed on her shoulder, “Go back to sleep, Firefly. It's really late, you should rest.”

“You don't have anymore questions?” she asked in surprise, even as she leaned over and pressed her cheek into her pillow.

“I do,” he admitted with a grimace, “but I kinda wanna take a minute to absorb all of this... maybe get a drink.”

“I'm sorry-”

“Stop.” He pulled her blankets up to her chin then rubbed her shoulder vigorously. “Just get some sleep.”

“Okay.”

Satisfied, Varric picked up his glasses and went back to his book, setting both aside. He put on his shoes and left without a word, leaving Nicole to her thoughts.

She rolled over, turning towards the wall. There was a tension in her, a dull pressure pressing against her diaphragm. Everyone was being so nice, so understanding- _Everyone,_ she thought, _you’ve seen Cullen and Varric, that’s not everyone._ And so the familiar discomfort kept watch, waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop as Nicole eventually drifted into a fitful sleep.

...

When Nicole opened her eyes again, she couldn’t tell how much time had passed, she only knew that she was either ravenously hungry or nauseatingly anxious. She sat up and found herself eye to eye with Cassandra. The Seeker was seated in a heavy looking chair near the foot of her bed, watching her over steepled fingers. It was just a little unsettling.

“Is it morning?” Nicole asked her, trying to regulate her breathing discreetly.

“Yes.”

“Then good morning.”

Cassandra straightened up and smiled with restraint, “Good morning.”

Nicole shifted to face Cassandra, sitting cross-legged. She gripped her ankles, knuckles white, and waited for the Seeker to make her move.

After only a moment of silence, Cassandra said, “Varric shared an interesting story with me.”

“Ah.” Nicole looked at her hands. With great care, she released her ankles and rested her hands on her knees. Her fingers itched to move. She turned her left palm up and touched the pattern there. It felt weird, each raised ridge of the pattern unnaturally smooth. A shudder raced up her spine and she looked away, dropping her hands into her lap. Nicole took a deep breath and released it. She looked at Cassandra. “What now?”

Cassandra stood and moved her chair closer to the bed. “I would like to hear your story for myself. Varric has a talent for spinning tales, I would not put it past him to exaggerate your circumstances.”

Nicole nodded. She could do that; already she felt much steadier. “Okay, but first,” she took a deep breath, “what did Varric say?”

Cassandra looked skeptical. “He said you came from a place beyond the Fade, that you have been guiding us all for many years, and you are here to ensure that our fate unfolds the way it is meant to.”

Nicole grimmaced. “Yeah, no.”

“No?”

“No,” Nicole said, her face twisting as if she’d bitten into an overripe banana.

The Seeker visibly relaxed. “I cannot tell you what a relief it is to hear you say that. It made you sound like...” She seemed to flounder for words.

“The second coming of Andraste?” Nicole asked distastefully.

Cassandra smirked. “Something like that. It was very intimidating.”

Nicole looked down at her lap; Cassandra had been intimidated by her? That was too funny. She sobered and admitted, “There is a _tiny_ bit of truth to what he said.”

Cassandra leaned forward, focused and ready for whatever was to come. “Tell me,” she commanded.

Nicole sat up, shoulders back, spine straight. “I _am_ from somewhere else,” she said, “not Thedas, and I do think it’s somehow beyond the Fade. But I didn’t come on purpose.” Nicole looked down at her hand, her fingers tracing around the mark. “I wasn’t in the visions at the Temple, so my best guess is that I was somehow pulled into the Fade by the explosion. I have this,” she held up her left hand, eyes darting up to Cassandra’s face, “but I shouldn’t. Something must have happened, in the Fade maybe? So now I have it.” She frowned and shook her head,  “I don’t know how. I can’t remember anything except a vague idea of being in my world and then waking up here in Haven.” She bit her lip and added, “ I didn’t even know Thedas was a real place until now.”

“And before you knew? It was a some sort of folktale- a story?”

Nicole nodded, “Like one of Varric’s books. I could watch what happened through the eyes of the hero. Sometimes their path would split and I could choose which path I wanted to see play out.” Nicole looked down at her hands again, unable to watch the shift in Cassandra’s expression. She couldn’t read it and it made her stomach tighten. “If I didn’t like the outcome of one path, I could go back and watch how the other one would go.”

Silence.

Then Cassandra asked conspiratorially, “Which heroes have you seen? Varric said you guided the Champion?”

Nicole looked up to meet Cassandra’s gaze. The Seeker seemed genuinely interested. “Guided is… that sounds more involved,” she said. “I watched. The first story I ever watched was the Hero of Ferelden, from the time they were recruited by the Grey Wardens until just after the defeat of the Archdemon.”

“Truely?”

She smiled, fingers picking at the edge of her sleeve. “Yeah, but I don’t know what actually happened.”

Cassandra pursed her lips. “What do you mean?”

“There were so many different paths!” she exclaimed, eyes jumping up to Cassandra’s. “Even who the Hero was could change just by the slightest alteration of circumstances.”

“I see,” Cassandra said, her eyes a bit wide.

Nicole nodded. “Could you tell me a little about it? Who _was_ the Hero? Did they live? Is Alistair the king? Who fought alongside them against the Darkspawn? Did-”

Fighting back a grin, Cassandra held up her hand, “One at a time, please.”

Nicole bit her lip and tucked her hands into her lap. “Sorry,” she said, trying not to smile.

Cassandra smiled, saying, “The Hero is Theron Mahariel, Warden Commander of Ferelden, though he has disappeared. He is a Dalish elf. I was looking for him before all of this happened.”

“And Hawke,” Nicole added excitedly.

The Seeker scowled, although there was mirth in her words, “Please tell me I was not the subject of one of your stories.”

Nicole smiled, looking down at her hands. “Well, not that I watched, no. I saw parts of when you interrogated Varric.” She glanced back up, a bubble of laughter tickling the back of her throat. “There _was_ a story though.”

Cassandra pinched the bridge of her nose then gestured for Nicole to elaborate.

Twiddling her thumbs, she told her, “You saved the Divine from a horde of dragons.” She couldn’t stop grinning when Cassandra made a noise of disgust.

“Of course that was a the story they told, why am I even surprised? It was _not_ a horde.”

Still grinning, Nicole tried to reassure her. “I didn’t watch that one, if it makes you feel any better.”

“A whole other world exists where the exaggerated misadventures of my youth are being passed around like an Orlesian rumor, yet I should be pleased the Herald of Andraste has not heard it?” Cassandra stopped her tirade to consider this. “... Actually, that does make me feel better.”

The lightness their conversation had given Nicole soured. “Cassandra,” she began tentatively, plucking at the hem of her shirt. “Are they… are the people already calling me that?”

The Seeker stilled. After a moment she said, “Yes. The people have taken to calling you that.” She leaned back in her chair. “You have watched our story, haven’t you? You knew the events at the Temple. Did you know they would call you ‘Herald of Andraste’?”

Nicole nodded, the pressure from before returning, sliding through her limbs and filling up her chest like cool molasses. It was sickeningly sweet. “I’ve watched the story through the eyes of the elf woman in the visions.” She pulled a thread loose from the edge of her sleeve. “There were others, different people could have ended up with this-” she lifted her marked hand, “but not me. Not anyone from my world.”

Cassandra made a contemplative noise. “But how can you know these things? They have yet to happen.”

Nicole shrugged, her attention turning to a hangnail. She picked at it, absently admitting, “I don’t know. It’s probably like with Mahariel- I don’t actually _know_ what’s going to happen, but I know what’s possible.”

The Seeker sighed, sounding exhausted.

Nicole buried her hands in the blankets surrounding her and cautiously asked, “Do you really believe me, Cassandra? This is all _impossible_ to me, how are you so calm?”

The Seeker slouched in her chair with a shrug. “It is as Varric might say- who could invent such a lie?”

In the silence that followed, Nicole’s stomach gurgled a loud complaint.

Cassandra smiled, a muffled chortle slipping between her lips. “Get up and dressed. We’ll find you something to eat.” The Seeker stood, her eyes focused beyond their little room, “We’ve a great many things to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for such a long wait between chapters. I've moved 3 times and got a full-time job, so making time to write has been challenging. Say hello on Tumblr, I have the same name there.


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